Dead Man Walking
by StaroftheDunedain
Summary: Part Three of the Rose Winchester Chronicles. Dean's deal is due and there's no way Rose is going to let him rot. But what happens when they get back might be more frightening then where they left. Rated for the possibility of language and innuendo.
1. Hellhounds on My Trail

AN: So...Welcome to the Rose Winchester Chronicles Part Three! Thanks, Lynn for being the best beta ever.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rose and her pancakes.

For Dean's last week, the trio rented a cabin in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. It was the nicest place they'd ever stayed: three bedrooms, a kitchen, deck and sitting room. The only rooms they really used, however, were the sitting room and the kitchen.

They used the sitting room because of the 24 inch television in the center. On top of renting the cabin, they had rented or bought every low budget, high budget, classic or otherwise monster and horror movie they could find.

They laughed themselves to tears and then pretended the tears were only from their laughter at the antics of the hunters, hunted, and monsters alike. Whenever one of them slept, it was on the couch or in the recliner because he or she couldn't force their eyelids to stay open. The sleeper was given the lullabye of the screams from the TV and the laughter of the audience.

They used the kitchen because they had bought as much food as the trunk of the Impala could hold next to the weapons. Apparently, Rose's all girl boarding school had stressed the home economics classes and Rose had gotten pretty good at the cooking part.

After she got back into the swing of things (at the sacrifice of a few pans) the Winchesters gorged themselves on home-cooked food. Even Sam gave up on his green, healthy, rabbit-food fare and ate chocolate cake for lunch. Dean had pie with every meal, including breakfast. Rose's specialty just so happened to be apple, Dean's favorite, but she swore, with a wink to Sam, that it was purely coincidental.

Still, no matter how much they ignored what was really going on, time still slipped away from the Winchesters. At 11:30 pm of Dean's last day they could no longer pretend that nothing was going to happen.

Dean tried to smile at his siblings while the second hand on the clock ticked as loudly as a thunderstorm.

Rose was the first to hear the growling and baying of the hellhounds and made a move to salt the door.

"Stop," Dean said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. No one's ever escaped a hellhound." He laughed weakly. "Look at Robert Johnson..."

"But..." Rose started to object.

"No," Dean insisted. "I can't win. I'm not going to just run. I made this deal, it was worth it, and I'm gonna hold up my end."

Sam and Rose nodded. Rose wrapped her arms around Dean's chest, her head on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scents of leather, gun oil, and cheap soap. Dean rubbed her back soothingly, like he used to when she was little and couldn't sleep.

"Sammy," Dean said, trying to smile so his brother wouldn't be so scared. "Take care of my wheels." The crack in his voice gave away the lie in the smile.

Sam nodded, breath hitching over tears. "I will."

"And look after R..." He stopped and pushed his sister away gently. "Rosie, I don't know what to say to you. Eat your veggies."

Her laugh turned into a sob and he pulled her back into another hug, burying his face in her soft hair for a moment. Then he looked at Sam, who nodded and pulled their sister to him.

"Look after each other," Dean said quietly.

"You know we will," Rose promised, leaning against Sam.

"Remember what Dad taught you. And remember what I-" his voice broke and he had to swallow hard. "Remember what I taught you." His voice was more pleading that commanding, begging them to take care and not get hurt.

"We will," Sam vowed, his arms tightening slightly around Rose's shoulders.

Dean nodded and gave them a bright smile with watery eyes. Rose and Sam both shuddered as the clock struck midnight, but Dean just clenched his fist and faced the door.

"All right, you sons-of-bitches! " He walked forward a few feet and flung the door open. "Come and get me!"

Rose and Sam couldn't see the hellhounds themselves. But they could see Dean being pinned to the floor, the teethmarks being left on his skin. Rose cried out and started toward him, but was held in place by Sam's arms.

He kept her face turned away from the horror, protecting her in what little way he could from the carnage as the hounds continued to use their brother as a chew toy.

But he couldn't protect her from the screams-Dean's screams as the fangs tore strips out of his flesh and the claws tore open his belly, guts spilling out into his hands.

It was over in 10 minutes. It was another 10 before Sam could let go of Rose, before they could make their way over to Dean's body.

Sam sank and sat down with his legs crossed. "Dean, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He picked Dean up like a baby and held him against his chest, rocking back and forth repeating "I'm sorry," in an endless refrain. He was too overwhelmed with shock to even cry.

Rose could cry though and she did. Tears streaming down her face, heart breaking, she found herself in the odd position of comforter. She knelt and held Dean's hands in one of her own and slid the other hand behind Sam's head. Pulling their foreheads together, she gently stopped his rocking. "Sammy. It's all gonna be ok. I promise. It's all gonna be ok."

She kept up her own refrain until the light of awareness came back into Sam's eyes. "Are you ok?"

"No."

She laughed weakly and a few more tears leaked out. "Me neither." She looked down at Dean's body and a few more tears escaped. She gently closed Dean's eyes then pushed her own hair back.

Sam stared at the specs of blood on her cheek. "We need to bury him, Sammy."

"It's all my fault," Sam mumbled, holding Dean a little closer.

"No, it's not," Rose said firmly. "Sammy, don't say that. Hey, look at me..." Sam met her eyes. "It's gonna be ok."

"No. It won't be," he protested. "We need him Rosie. We need to all be together. It will never be ok again."

"Yes, it just need to figure out how to get him out." Rose already had a plan, the only plan, but she knew that she needed to change Sam's train of thought before he derailed completely and broke apart out of guilt and grief.

They kept vigil with Dean's body all through the long night. Their muscles cramped and his blood dried tacky and cold on their hands and clothes.

When dawn broke through the windows of the cabin, it made it a little easier to get up.

They had work to do.


	2. Dear Sammy

AN: Sorry this took so long to get to you... As y'all ca nsee, I don't have as much written on this one starting out so updates will take longer .Hope it's still worth it :) Thanks, Lynne, for being such a great beta.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rose. She really resents that.

Dear Sammy,

I told you that everything would be all right. I'm going to make it all okay. I've got a way to save Dean.

I couldn't tell either of you earlier because I know that both of you would try to stop me. Big brothers are good at saving little sister. But this little sister can't let herself be saved this time. Which is why I still can't tell you what's going on. If you wake up, well, it's best you not know what I am planning until I am done.

I'm sorry, Sam, but this is how it's gotta be. I hope you understand.

Dean told us to remember what he and Dad taught us. Dad taught us a lot about hunting. It should be easy to remember because he pounded it all into our skulls.

Dean taught us two things. 1: Family comes before anything and everything else. 2: Always keep fighting. Remember the second while I'm following the first.

Don't give up, Sammy. I'll be back soon. I'll have Dean. Everything will be okay.

Love,

Rosie

Rose left the letter on the nightstand by her and Sam's phones. It was two days after Dean's death and Sam was sleeping for the first time. She took a long look at him, studying the floppy brown hair they both hair that both inherited from their dad and his slightly pug nose. "Bye, Sammy," she said too quietly to wake him.

Then she slipped silently out the door.

"Okay," she said once she was outside. "We didn't actually talk about this. Do I drive up to the Gates or what?"

"That will be unnecesary," Castiel said from behind her.

Right behind her. She turned and startled a little when the angel's face was six inches away from her own. "Oh, wow, uhm, hello." Castiel didn't move so Rose took a step back. "Obviously there is no such thing as personal space in Heaven," she mumbled, earning herself a very blank look. "Nevermind. What's the plan?"

In answer, he just touched her forehead with two fingers. She felt something like a tug in her chest and then it was like looking at the Millennium Falcon going into hyperdrive for an instant.

Then she was standing on solid ground again, dizzy and nauseous. Her knees started to buckle but Castiel caught her by the arm easily. "It can be overwhelming the first time."

"I noticed." She sucked a deep breath into her lungs and got her bearings.

She was back in Wyoming, in front of the Devil's Gates. Taking another deep breath, she shook off Castiel's lingering hand on her shoulder and got closer to the doors. "I left the key with Sam," she realized. "Do we need to go back?"

"I don't need it," Castiel answered.

Rose didn't know if she was upset or relieved. "Get this over with then."

He nodded. She watched while he outstretched his hand. The gears of the doors rotated and turned.

While the doors slowly opened, Rose expected more demons to come out, like the last time. But Castiel started glowing slightly, face to the sky. The demons shrieked and whirled at the entrance, but they couldn't escape. "I can't keep this open for long," he said matter-of-factly.

Rose turned to the angel. "Thank you, Castiel." She smiled at him, then turned and faced the evil.

A blackened, bone staircase started at the entrance, going down into a fiery abyss. She could feel the heat from where she stood and hear the screams, the screams of hundreds of thousands in agony. She could smell the sulfur and the metallic smells of blood and rusted iron.

"Dean...You are SO going to owe me pie."


	3. Lazarus Rising

AN: I have no idea why I wrote this chapter so quickly... Ok, ammend that. I might have quick updates and I might not. lol. Depends. School is starting back soon though so these might take a while. Hope everyone is gonna hang on for the ride despite that. I promise to never abandon these. This project is my baby! My precious! *Don't make do my Gollum impersonation...*

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the Christian Kane song I am listening to, Sad Day.

It was so dark that Dean couldn't see his hand in front of his face. His elbows bumped into wood as he fumbled his way into his pocket for his lighter.

The feeble flame illuminated his surroundings well enough to show him that he was in a pine box, probably underground. "Son of a bitch!" He was surprised at the sound of his own voice. It was more of a hoarse croak than anything else.

Taking very small, shallow breaths, he started prying at the edges of the lid, breaking his fingernails, ripping two of them clean off. His precautions were still not enough to keep him from choking on the dirt that rained down when he finally broke through the lid.

Dean dug his way out of his grave, laying on the grass and gasping for air when he was finally free, covered in dirt and sweat and so damn grateful to be loose that he couldn't think straight.

He lay there for close to an hour, just feeling the sunlight on his face. When he finally did stand, he looked around for the first time.

"Holy..." In a perfect circle around his grave, all of the trees were dead. They were all completely blown over, in the same direction, away from where he'd been planted. It looked like a bomb had gone off.

Even for Dean, that was spooky. It was a warm day so he tied his overshirt around his waist and started wandering through the wasteland until he came to a road.

It was just two-lane blacktop, but it meant civilization. And civilization meant a phone. And a phone meant hearing Sam and Rose, hearing that they were safe and sound. Because they had to be.

A couple of cars passed him, but no one picked him up. He was just as glad because he stumbled upon a slightly derelict gas station. The doors was a closed sign and the doors were locked.

That wasn't much of a deterrant for Dean. He just broke the glass and unlocked the door from the inside. He went straight over to the cooler and opened a bottle of water. He didn't stop gulping until the bottle was empty then grabbed a second one.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a newspaper rack. He picked one up gingerly, a little afraid of what he might see. "Four months..." he said, scanning the date. It felt like longer.

He tucked the paper under his arm and went over to the rack of candy bars. The Snickers melting on his tongue was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. He scooped up five more and moved to the counter.

The cash register was full. Dean grabbed a plastic bag from the rack on the counter and stuffed half of the money, the candy, and the water into it. He figured anyone with a heart would help a guy who had just gotten out of HELL, and anyone who wouldn't deserved to get ripped off. He wished he could leave a note.

There was a payphone outside. He used a few of the quarters from the bag and dialed Sam's number. The few seconds it took for the phone to ring three times felt almost as long as his time in hell.

Finally, Sam picked up. "Hello."

"Sam!" Dean nearly forgot everything. "Sammy, it's me. Are you and Rose ok? Where are you?"

Click.

"Ok," he mumbled. "Let's try this again." He dialed Rose's number, praying they were together, praying it was a dream. "Pickup, pickup, pickup."

It was a few more rings before he heard the answering click. "Rose! It's Dean!"

"Shut up!" Sam's voice snapped. "How dare you call this number? I don't care what you are; demon, shapeshifter. I'm gonna kill you."

Click.

Okay, so the phone wasn't his best option. Not stopping to think about why Sam had answered Rose's phone because if he did he felt slightly sick, Dean looked around and saw a couple of old cars in the gas station's parking lot.

He went over to the late 70s Ford and started stripping wires. He was surprised when the car actually started. "I'll be damned." It even had a full tank of gas and a working radio.

Since he didn't know where his siblings were, he decided to drive to Sioux Falls, South Dakota and Bobby Singer.

He only stopped once, to buy gas and a bag of Funyuns. He parked in Bobby's junkyard and walked up to the house on slightly shaky legs. This was just so normal.

He had to knock on the door until his knuckles hurt to get Bobby to answer.

The older man flung the door open. "What do you...?" He trailed off and stared. "Dean?"

Dean smiled. "I know. I look good."

"You, you better come in."

But, no sooner had Dean stepped through the door then Bobby was attacking him with a knife.

"Bobby, hold on!" Dean twisted out of range and put the kitchen table between them, "It's me. I'm not a demon."

"Then you're a shapeshifter!" Bobby lunged again, but Dean hauled him off balance and took the knife.

"Could I do this then, with a silver knife?" Dean pulled up his sleeve and, with a small wince, cut a gash in his forearm. The skin cut cleanly, no visible bubble of blood reacting to the silver. "Your name is Robert Henry Singer. You became a hunter when your wife was possessed. And you're about the closest thing I have to a father."

Bobby's eyes filled with tears. "Is it really you?"

"That's what I've been saying." Dean walked slowly back around the table and lowered the knife.

Bobby pulled Dean into a tight hug. "It's so good to see you, boy."

"You too, Bobby." Dean pulled away, restless suddenly, almost afraid. "Can you get ahold of Rose and Sam? I tried, but Sam thought, well, that I was something evil."

Something twisted behind Bobby's eyes, something Dean didn't want to identify because it looked like grief. "Yeah."

Dean was about to voice his thanks when his face and then the front of shirt were suddenly soaked with water. "I'm not possessed."

"Can't be too careful," Bobby said, patting his shoulder. "Dry off in here. I'll call Sam."

Dean nodded and grabbed a hand towel, abandoning it on the table as soon as Bobby turned his back, edging silently forward instead to follow the older man and listen in on his conversation.

"It's me, Sam... No, I don't have any information on Rose... Don't you hang up on me, I'm calling because of your brother... Yeah, I know. He's here... Sam, I ran every test I know. It's really him...I know, son, I know, but it is...See you then." Bobby hung up and turned, not surprised to see Dean dripping all over his carpet. "He's four hours away. Means three."

"Good." Dean nodded, tired. "Good. Wait, what do you mean 'he's' not far away? Where's Rose?"

Bobby didn't answer, but that grief was back and clearer.

Dean felt panic start to claw at him. He pushed it down but couldn't stop his blood from running too fast in his veins. "Is she okay? Bobby, is she okay?"

Bobby shook his head. "I don't know, Dean. She's been missing since you left."

"No. No, no, no, no. No!"


	4. Emtional Rescue

AN: NO WINCEST! Dean loves his little brother (and sister) in the normal way. An extreme amount of the normal way maybe, but the normal way. Thanks so much to my wonderful beta Lynn since this is readable.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them, because season six Castiel would never have happened like that. *sob*. But, alas, I own nothing.

"No. No, no, no. No!" Dean backed away a couple of steps. "No. That, I was dreaming. It was the demons screwing with me." His legs hit a chair and he sank into it, head in his hands.

Bobby wanted to say something, but what could he say to the man drowning in his living room. "Dean..." he laid his hand on Dean's shoulder, but the younger man flinched away.

"That damn, stupid girl," Dean said quietly, more defeated than angry.

"Dean?" Bobby almost didn't want Dean to continue because it gave him a sick feeling. "What're you talking about?"

Dean looked up, an agonized expression on his face. Bobby briefly wondered if that was what he looked like in Hell. "Bobby," Dean asked, "did she leave a note? Give some sign of where she was going?"

"Just that she had a plan to get you out. And maybe, that's why we haven't heard from her. Maybe the plan failed, and she didn't want to contact us until she had a new one..." Even as he said it, it sounded weak. Rose would never do that to her family.

Dean's face twisted into something ugly, a mix between a cold smile and more pain. "Her plan worked. I-I barely recognized her. I thought it was the demons. But she was there, in-in hell. God." He shook his head. "I-I almost didn't recognize her." Images of the way she had looked flashed through his brain. He shook his head again, more violently, to banish them.

"So, she came in to get you?" Bobby asked, fighting back a wave of nausea at the thought. "How? And do you think... Do you think she might still be there?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, but I don't think so. I think she got pulled out first." He stood and started to the cabinet where Bobby kept the booze, but stopped when he saw Bobby's desk and the three whiskey bottles he was using as a decoration. Without comment, he picked up the only one with anything left in it and took a long drink.

"Anyway, she was in front of me and...all messed up. I didn't know who she was until she said...something." He winced and took another drink. "There was this bright light and the demons were freaking out. She started fading into it. She screamed, grabbed my hand, and the next minute I woke up from a dirt nap." He rubbed his face with his forearm and glanced at the bottle he was holding. "What's with the liquor store, Bobby?"

"It's been a tough four months for all of us," Bobby snapped. He regretted it immediately. "That sounds like a spell. Must have been off-the-charts powerful though."

"That's what I've been thinking." Dean hadn't been thinking about it at all in actuality, being too deep in denial to deal with it. But that sounded good and Bobby was usually right.

"Spell like that should leave a mark," Bobby added. "You notice anything? New scars, tattoos?"

"I haven't really checked," Dean admitted. "What with the whole, getting out of hell trying to track down my family thing." He motioned toward the bathroom. "You mind if I...?"

"Go ahead." Bobby pulled down a heavy book from one of the many bookcases in his living room/office/guest room. "Kill time till Sam gets here anyway."

"Bobby, don't tell him how much I remember," Dean pleaded. "I don't want him to know what all I'm gonna have to live with."

"What are you gonna tell him?"

Dean smiled weakly. "I'll let you know when I do." He stood in front of the mirror and gave the shower a longing look, then sighed and started to strip. "Holy shit," he breathed, peering at his skin as if was some sort of alien substance. "That's not what I expected."

Bobby looked up when Dean emerged exactly 27 minutes later, saw the slightly stunned expression on Dean's face. "Find something?"

"No, well, maybe. It's weird."

"Either you found an unnatural mark or you didn't."

"I didn't find any, but that's what's so weird."

Bobby sighed. "If you're not gonna even try to make sense then don't bother saying anything."

"All of my scars, all of them, they're gone," Dean elaborated slowly. "I checked every inch, including a couple I've never even seen before, and all I found were freckles." He glanced down at his hands and where there were supposed to be several dozen scars from knife cuts over the years. "What does that mean?"

"I'll let you know when I do," Bobby answered.

Just then, the door banged open with enough force to rattle the kitchen windows.

"Dean!" Sam called, skidding to a halt just inside Bobby's office. "Is it? Are you...? Bobby?" He was staring at his brother like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Like I said, every test." Bobby got choked up despite himself.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said quietly, really smiling for the first time in what felt like a century. It was stupid, but he'd forgotten how tall his little brother was. And how stupid the floppy hair looked. But he could never forget that patented Sam smile; dimples, white teeth and all. How it felt to be the center of the universe for one moment. It cut through his heart like a knife.

After a second of frozen shock, Sam lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Dean. It was a brief hug but it left Dean gasping and wanting to check for broken ribs. "Good to see you, Dean." Sam said with that same smile.

Dean pulled Sam into a second hug. "Same here."

They had just pulled away for the second time when Sam got an expression on his face that reminded Dean of the time when a five-year-old Sam had spilled the orange soda he wasn't supposed to have onto Dean's beloved walkman. "Dean, I, I have something to tell you. I let you down. Rose, she's missing. I lost her."

Dean opened his mouth to say that he knew, and he wasn't disappointed when Sam's phone rang. "Answer it," he said instead.

"Hello," Sam said curtly. His eyes widened. "Rose!"

AN2: I, personally, am a fan of Sam's hair... But Dean's his big brother and I heard from a different big brother that Dean would probably find it stupid. On Principle.


	5. Branded Yours

AN: So...this whole idea started out as a text between a friend and myself over if the boys had a sister and now it's a giant epic Chronicles. Wow.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Rose's awakening was just as dramatic as Dean's.

She came to in what felt like a parking lot if the cold gravel under her cheek was any indication, but the only thing she could see was a red haze of pain. She sucked in a deep breath, felt like her entire arm was on fire. Still burning, she thought smiling at the irony despite the physical agony. Eyes screwed tight and jaw clenched to keep from crying, she wondered if maybe her arm was still dangling in the pit and tried to gather the strength to move.

She heard a crunch on the gravel near her head. Despite the pain, hunter instincts took over. She was on her feet in an instant: eyes open, teeth bared, and fists clenched.

Only to find herself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes. "Castiel?" She dropped her hands slowly, trying not to groan. "Did it work? Is Dean free?"

The angel nodded. "He is saved."

Rose let out a shriek of triumph, sounding almost hysterical even to herself. Without thinking, she threw herself at Castiel, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He didn't exactly hug her back but he also didn't push her away. Or smite her. So she figured she had his permission. He smelled good and clean and Christmasy and the scent helped her clear her head. That and her shoulder stopped hurting when they touched.

The embrace only lasted a moment and she pulled away with a sheepish expression. His expression was more bemused than anything else, she thought. He was hard to read most of the time.

She looked around and raised her eyebrows. "Why are we outside of the LasiyDaisy Motel? And... where IS the LaisyDaisy Motel?" She heard a sound like a single wingbeat of enormous bird and when she turned around Castiel was gone. "Gee thanks."

Rose searched her pockets and found her wallet with the same fake credit card, fake ID, and real $5 that she'd had when she went into the pit. Even the same folded-up Kodak of her brothers leaning against the car. "I wonder how long it's been and if they still take credit cards."

She looked in the mirror of a car parked near her and groaned. "I look like a crazy person." She had gravel impressions on her cheek, her hair was in complete disarray, and her clothes were all wrinkled. She smoothed her shirt and patted her hair down as best she could.

The acne-scarred older man behind the motel counter gave her a quick once-over and looked back down at his porno.

"Uhm, excuse me, Sir, but, uhm...can I borrow a phone? I got dropped off here and I need to call someone."

"Yeah, I'll bet," he muttered with a sneer.

"I'm not a hooker!" Rose protested. "I need to call my brother."

"Phones are in the rooms."

"I just-Oh, fine." She slid the card and ID across. "Since you're being so helpful, do you mind telling me the date and where I am?"

"The bustling metropolis of Humboldt, South Dakota." He slid across the cards and her receipt with the date circled.

"Four months..." She shook her head. "God, it seemed like longer."

"Mmhmm." The clerk handed her the key. "Room 207 on your left."

"Thanks to you, I will always remember this place for its hospitality and service," Rose said sarcastically. She rubbed at her shoulder absently and trudged into her room.

She took a deep breath and picked up the phone. Dialing Sam's number, she doodled absently on the hotel stationary, dropping the pen when she heard Sam say "hello."

"Hi, Sam," she said quietly.

"Rose?" She could hear the shock in his voice intermingling with hope. "Is that really you?"

"Yeah, and you can run every test you want to when I get there. Where are you?"

"At Bobby's. We're at Bobby's."

She had already teared up just from hearing Sam's voice, but the tears started slipping silently down her cheeks as she realized what Sam meant by that. "Dean?"

She was expecting Sam to answer in the affirmative but it was Dean himself who spoke.

"Hey, Rosie."

"Dean." Her voice hitched and she had to take a deep breath to regain control. "It's g-good to hear your voice."

"Yours too. Don't worry about coming to us. I don't want you driving that fast." (She smiled despite the tears at the familiar older brother behavior). "Where are you?"

"LaisyDasiy Motel, Room 207, Humboldt, South Dakota."

"What the hell are you doing in Humboldt, South Dakota?" Sam asked, breaking into their conversation.

"I have no idea," she said with a laugh that sounded very strange to her ears after Hell. "But I want out."

"We'll be there soon," Dean promised. His voice was soft and sort of sad when he added. "And, Rosie, thanks."

"Anytime, Dean," she said in all sincerity. "Anytime." She hung up before she lost it for real and took several deep, steadying breaths, expecting pain. When that didn't come she remembered that breathing didn't usually fill lungs with blood topside.

She could almost feel the wet flaps of her own flayed skin hitting her bones and she shivered. "Shower. Now."

She took her green t-shirt off and was about to remove her bra when she caught a glimpse of her shoulder, the same one that has been burning. "Holy crap!" The scar on her clavicle from a pipe-wielding banshee was gone, but there was something new. A handprint, raised red and puffy like a massive burn. A brand. "What on Earth...?"

"I had to touch you," someone said from right behind her.

She whirled around, clutching her shirt to her chest. "Castiel? You scared the hell outta me!" He just looked at her. She sighed. "You were saying?"

"To raise you, I had to touch you in my true form." His hand hovered over the brand. "That is my mark."

She smiled weakly, her heart rate returning to normal. "Does that mean we have to get married?"

He cocked his head to the side slightly, like some sort of bird. "No."

Rose laughed. "Does it mean anything?"

"You would be under my protection," Castiel said. "But you always have been, so the mark is worthless."

"Wait...What?" Her voice was a little squeakier than she would have liked and she really wanted to put her shirt back on.

"Is it so hard for you to believe that Heaven has extended you its protection?" He asked taking a step closer to her.

"Uhm...considering the walls I've been tossed through and the creatures that have tried to eat me and Dean's driving in general...yeah, kinda. I don't know how many times I've nearly died."

"But you haven't," he said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well," she replied, turning around slightly so that she could safely get dressed without him seeing her more private assets. She turned back around and rose up to her full height. Which, even though the angel was shorter than Dean, was still not tall enough to look him square in the eye. "Besides that, I don't deserve special treatment."

"You really don't see it, do you?" Castiel asked. He was so close that Rose could smell that smell again and feel that inhuman heat of his body radiating outward. He was looking down at her with a disbelieving expression, searching her face like he was going deeper than the color of her eyes and reading her mind. "You are special, Rose."

She backed up a few steps and banged her hip hard on the motel table.

Castiel saw her wince and touched her forehead gently with two fingertips in an effort to heal her hurt.

Unfortunately, that's when Dean and Sam burst through the door.


	6. Higher Power

AN: This one was a little faster in coming, but I move in to my dorm in a few days and the updates will slow down once school works hits. Sorry y'all. :(

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

In true Winchester fashion, Sam and Dean saw a strange man in their little sister's space, touching her, and promptly kicked the door down with guns drawn. "Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, moving closer to Rose.

"Dean, this is Castiel," Rose answered for the angel. "He's my..." _Guardian Angel, Friend._ "I know him. He's fine. He's the one who..." she trailed off at a loss for words.

"I'm the one who reached down and raised you from perdition," Castiel supplied.

Sam lowered his gun but Dean cocked his. "Yeah, thanks for that. I oughtta shoot you right now."

"Dean?" Rose exclaimed, "What's gotten into you?" She'd pictured this reunion a thousand times as the demons tore at her flesh and not once had it gone like this.

Dean edged closer to Rose, anger radiating off of him. "She's a kid, dammit, and you let her..." He choked on his own words and looked over at his sister, her green eyes wide and almost confused.

"Dean," she said quietly. "I'm not a kid anymore, after everything I've seen. It was my choice. All Castiel did was give me a way out."

"And a way in," Dean retorted, sending Castiel a vicious glare.

Who was watching the exchange with an unconcerned expression that pissed Dean off even more. "I wanna know what it cost you, Rose."

"It didn't cost me anything," she assured him.

"Nothing happens without a cost," Dean argued. "Not in our family."

"I went to Hell. Isn't that cost enough?"

"No," Sam said. (Both of his siblings were shocked that he'd been quiet that long. Dean watched Sam out of the corner of his eye and saw him re-cock his gun. Good boy.) "You felt the same way I did, Rose. Hell wouldn't have been a sacrifice; it would have been fair."

If that broke Dean's a heart a little, he didn't say.

Castiel looked from Sam to Dean. "Good things do happen."

"Not in my expirience," Dean said at the same time Sam said,

"Yeah right."

Castiel shook his head. "What's the matter, Dean?" he asked, ignoring Sam.

Dean felt a small amount of relief when Castiel moved away from Rose and towards him. He had a curious, searching expression on her face as looked up at the older Winchester. He seemed to find something and that made Dean uncomfortable. "You don't believe that you deserved to be saved."

Dean swallowed, not daring to look at either sibling, afraid of what he would see there. "So, why did you?"

"Because God commanded it," Castiel answered calmly, as if that was a perfectly normal answer.

The Winchester men had two completely opposite reactions. Dean let out a bark of laughter that let Rose know that Dean believed some serious bullshit was being laid on thick. Sam, on the other hand, took in that quick breath signaling that his supersized Sammy brain was putting together the pieces.

"What are you?" Sam breathed.

"I'm an Angel of the Lord," Castiel said.

Dean snorted. "Shut up. There's no such thing." Sam nearly dropped his gun.

Castiel didn't answer the dismissal with words. Instead, he backed up and seemed to stand a little straighter. Invisible power surged through the room. It seemed to discombobulate the guys, whipping at their clothes and Sam's hair even as it felt reassuring to Rose. Lights crackled and the bulbs burst, white hot sparks flying.

It wasn't the flickering caused by demons; more like an overload of electricity. "Cut it out," Dean commanded.

Castiel didn't pay attention. Dean smiled grimly and shot. Six times. In the chest.

Rose let out an aborted little scream at the gunshots then watched wide-eyed as Castiel didn't even flinch. She had seen all kinds of creatures, beings that bullets couldn't kill, but she'd never seen something that six bullets at pointblank range didn't even faze. Sam darted forward and Rose saw a brief flash of gleaming metal and wicked runes before a blade was buried in Castiel's chest.

Castiel looked down and pulled the knife out, not even bloody and gave Sam a gentle shove backwards that sent him reeling four feet.

Lightening crackled and the black shadows of huge wings unfurled from Castiel's back. It seemed to Rose that she could see the glow of an inner being struggling to free itself from the confines of its earthly form.

They disappeared just as suddenly as they appeared, the lightening stopped, even the electric sparks stopped flying. The light bulbs were still blown, but the trio could see in the glow from the neon lights outside.

"Uhm, Dean," Sam said quietly. "I think he's legit."

"I was trying to tell you that," Rose chimed in from her corner.

Dean ignored them both. "Why, why would God rescue me from Hell? Er, why would you send my sister? Why would God give a damn what happens to me?" He looked about as scared and out of his element as his siblings had ever seen him.

Castiel walked closer to Dean. "Because He has work for you." In between one blink and another he was gone.

Rose, Dean, and Sam all looked around the room, momentarily stunned.

Rose recovered first and ran to Sam, throwing her arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. I was never supposed, I mean, I never meant to be gone so long."

He rubbed her back tenderly. "It's okay, I would've done the same thing."

"And I would've kinda hated you," she said with a weak laugh.

Sam grinned and ruffled her hair. "Yeah, well, I listened to some emo rock and wrote some sappy poetry. Worked it all out."

"He even douched up my baby with an i-pod jack," Dean added with an exaggerated shudder and misty eyes. Watching Sam and Rose, he knew that he'd make the same decision again.

Rose pulled away from Sam and looked at Dean. "Hey, Deano."

"Hey, Rosie."

Rose shook her head and wrapped Dean up in a hug of his own. "You look good."

"Yeah, you too." He echoed Sam's hair ruffle.

"Uhm, guys," Sam said, re-examining the room. "We'd better go before someone comes to investigate the indoor storm."

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "I want some pie anyway."

Dean clapped her on the back. "That's my girl."


	7. As American as Demon Hunting and Pie

AN: I feel like I'm becoming the author who cried wolf... I keep saying wait and then deliver quickly. I'm ammending my statements. I will go as fast as I can; don't panic if it takes time. I'd never abandon this. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rose and a stuffed dog named Lewis.

It was only a ten minute drive from the motel to the nearest 24-hour diner, yet Rose was still almost asleep by the time they got there. The backseat of the Impala was the closest thing to a home she could remember having, and the moment she touched the leather interior it felt like slipping into her childhood bed. Even with the two faded bloodstains and the faint, lingering smell of gun oil.

She woke up though, when the car pulled to a stop. In fact, she was first to the door. Dean was momentarily crushed by the fact that they didn't have apple pie, but brightened when he saw that blueberry was an option. It wasn't as good as apple, but it wasn't a bad second.

Three still steaming slices of blueberry pie were on the table before the companionable silence was broken. "So," Rose said quietly. "Uhm, what were you up to while, you know, we were away? What've you been hunting?"

Sam took a sip of water and frowned thoughtfully. "Demons mostly."

Dean shook his head. "Sammy. Demons are at least a two person job. Us being...gone, was no reason for you to get stupid."

Sam made Bitchface #14, or so Rose categorized it. "I know that, Dean." He looked at his pie for a moment. "I figured, the least I could do was live and carry on the Winchester fight."

Rose squeezed Sam's knee and Dean took a really big bite of pie to give himself time to think of something to say.

"Ooook," Rose spoke again instead, dragging her spoon through the pie filling that had dribbled out onto the plate. "When you guys decided to attack Castiel, brilliant idea by the way," (Sam looked a little sheepish. Dean looked like he'd do it again) "I saw that you had a knife. I barely got a look at it, but it seemed new."

"Yeah." Sam glanced around the room and saw that they were alone, the solitary waitress on duty back in the kitchen gossiping with the cook. "Here." He laid it on the table between his siblings.

Dean whistled appreciatively. He picked it up, inspecting the jagged edge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his sister tense and turn slightly pale. "You ok?"

"Yeah." She rubbed the back of her neck where all the hair was suddenly standing up. "Sam, what do those symbols mean?"

"Don't know exactly... Why?"

She made a face. "That knife makes my skin crawl."

"It's just a knife," Dean assured her, then realized that he didn't actually know that. "Right, Sam?"

Sam fidgeted awkwardly for a moment. "Well, not exactly. See, it, uhm, kills demons."

"'Kills demons,'" Dean repeated, eyeing the knife with a new mixture of appreciation and apprehension. "Where the hell did you get a demon-killing knife?"

"Ruby," Sam answered quietly, sinking down as far as he could in his chair. That wasn't far given his size and the size of the chair.

"Who's Ruby?" Dean asked, leaning forward.

"Girl I've been hunting with."

"Must have been hunting together a lot for her to give you a knife like that..." Rose teased.

"We've got mutual interests," Sam said, trying, and failing, to sink even lower.

"Oh?" Dean leered. "Like...hardcore sex?"

"No! It's not like that!" He protested, indignant. Then a slow smile spread over his face. "Well, maybe two or three times. Four. Ish."

Rose gagged. "Gross! Brothersex! Icepick to the eardrums."

Sam laughed and playfully pushed her.

She pretended to almost fall off the chair and took a bit of his pie in retaliation. "Seriously though, you're as suspicious as Dean. This Ruby chick must have something going for her besides being a cute fellow hunter."

"Well, yeah," he agreed. "I've been demon hunting like I said. But, mostly, I've been hunting one demon. Lilith."

"Who's Lilith?" Dean asked.

"Up and comer. Really powerful," Sam explained. "Owns a lot of contracts. I was hoping I could get you free somehow or, if that failed, keep the demons from organizing."

"Organizing what?" Rose picked at her crust and didn't look over.

"That I haven't figured out. But I don't give a damn." Sam's voice was a lot colder than his siblings were used to hearing. "I want that bitch dead. And Ruby's helping."

"You trust her?" Dean asked, his voice carefully casual.

"I do."

"Gonna keep hunting with her now that we're back?" Rose asked in the same tone. Avoiding the emotional was a Winchester family specialty.

Sam looked slightly startled by the question. "I don't know. I mean, no. But I, I think we should keep hunting Lilith. I may not know exactly what she's up to, but, guys, it's huge."

Dean scraped the plate clean of filling. "It's too early for that. Let's get a room and get some sleep first."

"Agreed," Rose echoed, a sudden yawn splitting her face in two.

Sam smiled and put a $20 on the table, standing and stretching. "Want me to drive?"

"No," Dean objected quickly. "I got it. I've been separated from my baby long enough."

"Maybe you two should get your own room," Rose joked, sliding into the backseat.

"Shut up," Dean said with no heat whatsoever in his voice.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled sleepily.

By the time they found a motel, Rose was fast asleep. Sam checked them in, while Dean leaned against the car, exhausted. He could only see two stars when he looked up, but they were beautiful.

Sam came back and looked at his little sister curled up in the middle seat. "I'll wake her if you want."

"No, just get the door." When he did, Dean scooped Rose up carefully.

"You haven't done that since she was little," Sam whispered, opening the motel door.

Dean just grunted. Putting her on the couch, he smoothed her hair back from her face. Sam got the spare blanket from the bed he knew Dean would make him take. Further from the door, further from danger.

The men didn't say anything more, just shucked off their jeans, stowed weapons under their pillows, and climbed into their respective beds.

Dean forced himself to stay awake until Sam's gentle snores joined Rose's soft snuffling sounds. All right with his world, he let his hand touch the handle of his knife and his eyes drift shut.

It was the last peaceful night's sleep the Winchesters would have for a long time.


	8. Come Hell or Highwater

AN: I know, the chapter title sucks... Sorry. :) Hopefully the chapter doesn't.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a set of Supernatural pjs.

Dean woke up gasping and sweating, nightmarish knives slicing through his skin. His own knife in hand, he looked frantically around the room for his attackers. Just as his nerves were starting to settle, he realized that Rose wasn't on the couch.

"Sam," he said, lobbing a pillow at his younger brother's head. "Sam!"

"What?" Sam moaned, wanting to be irritated but too glad to hear Dean's voice to pull it off.

"Rose is gone!"

Both brothers were pulling on their pants when the door opened. "Oh, you're up," Rose said cheerfully, then frowned at their signs of distress. "Something wrong?"

"Where were you?" Dean snapped, more relieved that angry.

"Uhm, doughnuts..." she said, holding up a box of Krispy Kremes. "And coffee. Cause, you know, first one up gets breakfast. I left a note on your nightstand."

"Mm thanks," Dean said grudgingly, taking the lid off of his styrofoam cup and inhaling the smell of coffee, one cream no sugar.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna grab a shower."

When the door closed behind him, Dean looked at his sister from over the rim of his cup. "You were up early."

She shrugged. "Says the man who didn't have to sleep on that couch. Cruller?"

Dean took a bite of the sugary treat. "I've seen you sleep on lumpy motel couches for most of your life. And this is the first time I've seen you getting breakfast."

Rose swallowed her own bite and picked at the label on her juice bottle. "Nightmare. No biggie."

"If it was anything like mine, it was," Dean said quietly, staring at his coffee.

Rose gave him a small smile, knowing he was really watching her to see her reaction, and patted his knee. "I don't blame you, Dean. For anything that happened to me. Or anything that I saw."

Dean stood abruptly. "This needs something." He rummaged through Sam's bag and found a half full bottle of Jack Daniels. Pouring a liberal amount into his cup, he turned around to see Rose's eyebrows approaching her hairline. "What?" he asked defensively. "I think I'm entitled."

"Huh? Oh, no. Since when does Sam travel with whiskey?"

Dean shrugged."It's not been an easy four months for anybody."

"Yeah, but still..." Rose shook her head. "I'm worried about Sam and what he's mixed up in."

"Because of the whiskey?"

"No, not really. I just, I can't explain it. Something is wrong, Dean." She rubbed the back of her neck. "But Sam's right, something huge is going on."

Dean nodded slowly, used to his sister's enhanced instincts. "Well, we're back now. He's not alone anymore."

"Alone except for that Ruby bitch," Rose spat.

Dean was so taken aback by her vicious tone that he failed to reprimand her for her language. "He didn't replace us Rose." (He had a flashback to Sam's Stanford days when Rose would assure him of the same thing.)

"Dean, that knife might kill demons," Rose argued, glancing at Sam's bag and actually shivering. "But something _dark _made it. That knife, I can see shadows and blood in the letters."

"I can't see anything like that," Dean said slowly. "And, I know you're psychic and everything, but that seems like a little much even for you..."

"I know." Rose somehow managed to sound tired and scared at the same time. "Since I got back yesterday...some things are a little different. Like, I'm walking and I see something shiny but when I look again it's gone. Or I hear a whisper, but only in my head. I think my freaky ESP is getting more sensitive."

Dean didn't know what to say to that. "That's uhm, well." Terrifying. "Strange."

"You're telling me."

A gust of steam from the bathroom heralded Sam's arrival.

"I hope you left some for me, Gigantor." Rose huffed at her blue jean clad brother. She made a move toward her bag only to be hauled backwards by Dean.

"Oh no! If you get in there, Princess, I don't have a chance for hot water," Dean said, putting her in a headlock.

"Ow! Hey!" Rose swung her foot over, trying to hook his ankle. "Sam! Help!"

Sam didn't say anything, just picked Dean up partially at the waist so that he was practically laying flat out, still with Rose in a headlock.

Their playful tussling was interrupted by a knock on their door. Instantly alert, the Winchesters pulled apart. Dean grabbed a gun out of his bag and, out of the corner of his eye, saw Sam do the same and Rose slide into a loose fighting stance.

Since Sam was the closest to the door, he edged over and looked out the peephole. "It's Ruby," he told his siblings, body relaxing as he opened the door.

Dean had to admit, Ruby was kind of hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, petite. But there was something cold about her, something disdainful in her expression. He had a feeling Rose was right about the "bitch" comment.

"What're you doing here?" Sam asked in a tense tone.

"I'm fine, how are you?" she said sarcastically. Sam just crossed his arms. "I need to talk to your brother." She turned to Dean, ignoring Rose's existence. "Is it true that an angel pulled you out of the pit?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Rose cut him off. "Bet that freaks you out." She stepped toward Ruby, Sam's knife in her hand, stalking Ruby in true Hunter form. "Does it, you black-eyed bitch?"


	9. War Makes Strange Bedfellows

Rose lunged. Sam and Dean stared in shock as the blade swung in its deadly arc. Ruby caught Rose's wrist and snapped the knife out of her hand, then swung a haymaker that caught Rose square in the mouth. The sight of blood jolted Dean into action, but before he could cross the room Rose was up and had headbutted Ruby into a daze and held Ruby's head back, knife in hand.

Before she could slit Ruby's throat, Sam pulled Rose away. "Stop it!" (Ruby sank down onto the floor and sat there) "Rose!" (Dean moved to bar the door).

"She's a demon!" Rose spat out the blood filling her mouth and struggled against Sam's hold.

"I know, Rose, it's okay," Sam assured her. "Calm down, it's okay."

Rose finally wrenched herself free of Sam's grasp. But instead of attacking Ruby, she turned and stared at Sam. Dean kept his eyes on the enemy, but his voice was harsh when he addressed his brother. "So, your little friend is a demon, sSm. When exactly were you planning on telling us this?"

"I was going to introduce the topic slowly," Sam explained in slightly sheepish voice. "I didn't expect her to just drop by. Or for Rose to freak..." his voice trailed off and he looked at his sister, examining her. "How did you know that Ruby is a demon?"

"Because I can see her face, her real face," Rose answered. "And man, is she ugly." When both of her brothers looked at her she shrugged. "It's a new development I guess."

"You didn't tell me she had anything other than precognitive skills," Ruby said from her position on the floor. "If I could train her like I trained you, you have no idea how helpful that might be."

"Shut up," Dean ordered in his most dangerous voice. He noticed absently that Ruby was a lot less hot once he realized that she was evil. "Sammy, have you been using your powers?" That worried him. Rose was one thing, her powers were normal. Well, normal for their experience anyway. They'd met a few legit psychics in their lives, but Sam was the first one who had powers that hurt when he used them. Dean had always told Sam to lay off the powers, even though he knew that Sam and Rose were training behind his back. But Sam using them without someone reliable to lean on, that was scary.

Sam nodded.

"And you've been having this demon train you?" That was downright terrifying.

"What was I supposed to do?" Sam practically exploded. "You were in HELL because of me! I had no idea where Rose was or if she was even alive! Lilith was out doing terrible things, and I had to be as strong as the three of us! Ruby helped me. She saved my life and trained me so that I could save myself the next time." He took a deep breath and looked regretful of his next words. "Yeah, I knew she was a demon, guys. But what choice did you leave me?"

Dean and Rose shifted awkwardly, feeling the weight of the guilt starting to settle on their shoulders. Dean looked at Ruby and still wanted to kill her, but the urge had abated somewhat. "Get out," he said sternly.

Sam opened his mouth to object, but Rose put her hand on his arm and looked up at her with big, green eyes. "Sammy, please, we need to talk. As a family. Just, give us a little time."

It was the 'as a family' part that did him in. He could never pretend that Ruby meant what they did. He nodded.

Ruby looked outraged. "Sam!"

Rose whirled on the demon, an undercurrent of electricity that her brothers had never heard running through her voice. "Go. Now."

Ruby startled, the black spreading over her irises. She looked hard over the Winchesters' shoulders.

"I have to insist upon that point," said a new voice from behind them.

The trio whirled around to see Castiel standing in the room.

"What do you want?" Dean asked angrily, still pissed at him for letting Rose go into hell. And for not being easily killable. That kinda pissed him off about anything.

"To talk," he said calmly. "Without her." Blue eyes met black. Rose could almost picture the white light emanating from Castiel doing battle with the shadow she could see writhing under Ruby's skin.

Rose wasn't sure who looked more surprised, Ruby herself or Dean. "You aren't going to exorcise her?" Dean asked, earning a sharp glare from Sam.

"As much as we would like to," said a strange man suddenly standing next to Castiel. "We have been ordered not to kill the little slut." (Rose noticed that Sam wasn't exactly eager to defend her honor). "Someone thinks she might prove useful later on."

"Who are you?" Dean asked, trying to get his bearings in a world where angels weren't trying to kill demons. He might not have believed for very long that they existed, and he certainly didn't like them very much, but he thought they'd be good for that at least.

"My name is Uriel," the stranger said in a deep voice. It seemed to Rose that he was more menacing than Castiel. But she didn't think he was more powerful. The light that constantly shone around them both, their halos she presumed, was a little brighter around Castiel. She thought that Uriel might be a bully, and that was not a pleasant idea.

Uriel was looking at Ruby with the same disgust on his face that Rose felt when she got sprayed with troll guts. "I can't stand it!" he exclaimed. "Giving this piece of filth a free pass while our brothers and sisters are _dying_..."

Castiel looked as surprised as Rose felt. "'Sisters?'" he repeated. "Who?"

"Sarah," Uriel said quietly. "This morning. That's five angels this week."

Castiel bowed his head and Rose saw a glimpse of something ancient in the sorrow behind his eyes, the loss of a friendship that had lasted as long as the lifetime of the Earth. It was only there an instant before Castiel shut it off and resumed his customary emotionless expression.

"We have our orders," he reminded Uriel.

"It would be so easy," the other angel pleaded. Sam edged between him and Ruby, hoping that Uriel wouldn't notice.

He did.

"Don't think that I have any qualms about smiting you either," Uriel snarled. "I don't have much sympathy for a demon-loving mud monkey."

"Uriel!" Castiel snapped. "You're getting dangerously close to blasphemy."

"But this abomination," Uriel spat.

"Is still one of our Father's creations," Castiel countered. "He can't help what he is, no more than can Rose. And so far he is innocent."

"He won't be for long," Uriel said with that same disgust on his face that he had shown for Ruby that Rose had shown for troll guts.

Dean was pissed about three things: One, that they were being ignored; two, that some angel had called his bother an abomination, and three, that he was being ignored.

"Who are you calling an abomination?" He asked with a smirk. "Aren't you lot junkless? Like a Ken doll?"

Uriel just smirked in return. "I might like you boy if you were more important." He looked at Rose. "Don't you have anything to say? After all, the angels are being killed because of you."

"Uriel," Castiel said with an edge in his voice. "Perhaps you should go and seek revelation."

"Of course," Uriel sneered. "I wouldn't want to upset the Chosen One, your precious charge." He vanished with the sound of wingbeats.

Castiel looked at Ruby and almost smile. "Go. Now. And don't think we can't find you. We can."

Ruby vanished.

He turned to the Winchesters. "I need to take Rose with me."


	10. Heaven Can Wait

AN: I just realized that I forgot an author's note on the last one. Whoops! Thanks (and free virtual pie) to you to those who reviewed. To those who didn't... I missed you! *goes off and cries until JustWhelmed sends picture of Castiel* All better! (But I still like reviews)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I only own Rose and she's the least exciting thing in here.

Dean's immediate reaction was to exclaim "like Hell!" and lunge between his sister and the angel.

Castiel's face was still mostly blank but he somehow managed to convey frustration. "I am not going to hurt her."

Dean snorted. "Says the guy who let her wander into Hell. Clearly you have her best interests at heart."

Castiel completely invaded Dean's personal space then, taking very deliberate steps. Technically, Castiel had to look up to talk to Dean, but that elicitated no smug feeling from Dean. The angel might look so much like a nerdy little guy in a trench coat that the Winchester men (who couldn't see the halo of light) could usually forget the power contained within him, but it was radiating now.

"You should show me some respect," Castiel warned in his low, velvet stretched over gravel voice. "I pulled you out of Hell. I can throw you back in."

That wasn't a threat Dean had considered. It wasn't enough to make him move away from his little sister because nothing was, but it was enough to make him shut up.

"Oook," Rose said from behind her oldest brother. "Before anyone get condemned to the Pit, let's just talk this out." She tried to scoot out into the open, only to find herself thrust behind Sam's back. "Oh come on!" she huffed. "If he was going to just whisk me away, he would have done it already."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances and conceded the point. Relaxing a bit, they let Rose walk to the middle of the room.

With her brothers on one side and the angel on the other, she felt kind of like a ref in a prize fight. Or a lion tamer. "So..." She figured that the most important questions were where he wanted to take her and why. She decided to skip those for the interesting ones.

"Why did Uriel call me the Chosen One? And why did he blame me for the murder of the angels?"

Castiel shifted slightly, as if that was a topic that made him uncomfortable. "The angels that have been killed have all been from our garrison-the garrison that fought the Battle to retrieve you from Hell."

Rose started to feel sick to her stomach. "Wha, what does that mean?"

"Lilith," he answered. (Out of her peripheral vision, Rose saw Sam tense) "It appears that she wants you."

"What?" Dean looked at his sister who looked a little less panicked than he felt.

Castiel didn't break eye contact with Rose. "You made it through Hell, Rose, without dying. Lilith wants to know how that was possible. I can promise you, you won't like her way of finding out."

Sam tensed a little more. He had some idea as to her methods.

"I got in and out because of you," Rose argued. She argued because she was scared of what Castiel was hinting at. "Isn't that right?"

Castiel nodded. Once. "I let you in, and the garrison fought my passage inside to retrieve you, yes."

Rose let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Well, then, Lilith is way off base. She should take it up with the angels."

"They aren't telling her," Castiel said quietly. "None of the five."

"Oh," she replied. She had forgotten in that short space of time that angels had died. To protect her. Her eyes filled with tears. She wasn't sure exactly why she was crying, but there seemed something so perverted about angels being killed by demons. Or angels being killed at all; and to think that it was her fault was more guilt than she could handle with a straight face, no matter how good the Winchesters were at burying shame deep under their skins. "I don't..."

"I still don't understand why Lilith wants Rose," Dean finished for her, unable to see her face but knowing by the set of her shoulders how upset she was. That was slowly killing him too.

Castiel ignored Dean. "Do you really think that you are just like everyone else?" he asked Rose. "You survived Hell. We had almost nothing to do with that. That was you. The demons ripped you apart (Dean and Sam actually flinched at those words while Rose merely nodded) and you survived. There is no one else who could have done that."

"Why me?" she asked, not wanting to be special, different. A freak. "Why is it always me?"

Castiel moved closer and laid his hand on her cheek. There was that familiar, not burning heat. Dean growled a little, but Sam stepped on his foot. He had a feeling that the angel would not usually be so forthcoming, and he didn't want Dean to break his focus.

"Because it had to be you," Castiel answered like it explained everything. Maybe to him it did.

"I don't understand," Rose insisted quietly.

"I know," he said kindly, running his thumb over her eyelid gently. "Someday you will, I promise you. However, right now, there are things I have been forbidden from telling you by my superiors. The orders involving you come from high on the celestial chain of command."

"Well, that's great," Dean said sarcastically. "Very helpful, you know, having all of this information. I'm sure we can deal with Lilith now. Thanks."

He had apparently forgotten the _throw you back into Hell _threat. Or maybe he really had that little control of his mouth. Sam and Rose wondered sometimes.

Castiel's whole not changing expression but conveying emotions thing was really a gift in Rose's opinion. She thought it would have helped in dealing with her dad. She refocused her attention just in time to catch the angel's words.

"You forget why I came here, Dean. I came to protect your sister from Lilith. What else can you want?"

"You came to take her away," Sam piped in from his corner. He drew himself up to his full, considerable height and crossed his arms making the muscles bulge just slightly. It was usually intimidating. "Why should we trust you?"

Castiel didn't seem impressed. "I would never hurt her."

Dean had a way of coiling his energy and strength in a way that let the prey know exactly what was coming. It didn't seem to bother Castiel either. "I don't believe you."

Castiel spun around faster than a thought and grabbed Dean by the shoulders in an iron grip. "I held her soul in my hands before you even knew her name," he said in his most dangerous voice. The ground actually seemed to shake a little with the angel's wrath. "I watched her walk into Hell. To. Save. You." He punctuated his words with a little shake. "Do not blame me for your mistake."

"Woah, woah," Rose said, walking over and putting her hand over the angel's and marveling at her own bravery. "Can you let go of my brother, please, Cas?" She wasn't quite sure where the nickname had come from, but both brothers gave her an odd look. Castiel apparently didn't notice. He reluctantly let go of Dean, eyes blazing with blue fire that Dean thought he could feel burning his skin.

"Look, I appreciate that you're trying to protect me. But, if you lock me away from my family, with all of the shit that's going down right now, I'd go crazy worrying about them." Castiel looked at her, fire dying somewhat until his eyes were their usual electric blue. "The best thing that you can do for me," Rose continued quietly, "is to help them kill Lilith."

"'Them'?" he repeated, almost suspiciously.

"Sam and...Ruby," the word tasted bitter in her mouth. "They've been hunting Lilith for a long time now and-"

"We know," Castiel interrupted. "Why else do you think we let that demon live?" He turned to Sam and his voice held a distinct warning note. "That being said, you are walking down a dangerous road, Sam Winchester, and we aren't sure where it ends. We will stop you if you force us to."

With that he was gone.


	11. Runnin' On Empty

AN: Sorry this one took a while guys. Got a bit of writer's block due to some exams this week. I would like college so much more if there were no exams. Thanks for the beta, Lynn. You're the best :) Again, no Wincest. Baby girl's just a pet name that I've heard parents give their children.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly. By the way, I wish I did so that I could erase seven season Castiel because... WHAT THE HELL?

For a long time, the Winchesters just stared at the spot where Castiel had been standing.

"What a dick," Dean said, breaking the silence at last.

Rose shot him a dark look, but otherwise ignored the comment. "What was he talking about, Sam?" she asked. "What road are you walking down?"

He shrugged. "The usual Winchester road."

_Which for three of us led straight to Hell, _Rose thought but didn't say. She wasn't comforted.

"That's nice and clear," Dean scoffed. He wanted to push, but he had to prioritize. Sam's vague and not pressing problem or Rose's concrete and close by problem. "Come on." They hadn't really unpacked the night before so Dean didn't have a lot to do to get ready.

"Where are we going?" Rose asked, looking longingly at the shower.

"Bobby's," he answered, pulling on his boots. "He'll know what to do."

"Dean," Sam protested. "Are we really gonna drag Bobby into this? We already know what to do. We need to call Ruby and keep on hunting Lilith."

"That's a great plan, Sam," Dean retorted, not exactly angry, but unable to keep his voice down anyway. "I wanna gank the bitch but how exactly do you plan to keep Rose safe? Because, last I checked, Lilith was **KILLING ANGELS**." (Rose gave a little wince at that) "I've got the feeling that a couple of salt lines aren't exactly going to keep her away."

Sam shifted his weight, his face dark, and Rose wondered for a moment where this Sam had come from. Then he sighed, shrugged, and turned to his duffle.

The ride to Bobby's seemed to take twice as long as it should have. There was an odd feeling in the silent car; a tense, frightened feeling. Rose couldn't help but wonder if Dean was running scared and if Sam was just running on blind rage. Rose was just too tired and guilty to be running on much including fear. All she wanted to go to sleep. But nightmares were a much more real fear than demons and so was the pricking in the back of her mind of something _not right_, so she stayed awake for the entire drive.

Her reunion with Bobby was just like she'd pictured a thousand times. Bear hug smelling of grease, herbs, and old books, barely restrained tears, and a warning to "never do anything so damned stupid again."

She didn't promise but she wanted to.

Rose felt herself start to collapse against the side of the couch while Sam told the story, so she just kicked off her shoes and let herself relax. Aside from the backseat of the Impala, Bobby's house was the closest thing she'd ever had to a home. Nothing bad had ever happened to her there and it was harder to be scared of anything, even the nightmares, when she was there. Especially when an arm she recognized as Dean's wrapped itself around her shoulders, and she could still hear Sam's voice like a lullabye in her ears.

She didn't see Dean look at her with something like terror in his eyes, wondering how he was gonna get her out of this mess.

Bobby chuckled softly at the completion of Sam's story even though he was scared too. "Kid, if anyone was going to get a cryptic guardian angel, it would be you."

Rose just mumbled.

Dean looked up at Bobby the way he used to look up at John, as if the older man had all the answers. Bobby wished to hell he did.

"What're we gonna do?"

Bobby sighed. "I dunno, boy, not for long term anyway." He stood, wincing when his joints creaked. "But I've got an idea for the short term. Follow me."

The Winchesters were slightly reluctant to leave their sister, but, like their sister, they had a harder time being scared in the Singer House, so they trailed after Bobby into his basement.

They'd been in Bobby's basement a hundred times, but this time there was a surprise.

"You built a panic room?" Dean went over and knocked on the wall. "A solid iron panic room?"

"Covered in rock salt and complete with MREs, books, and a devil's trap?" Sam added, stepping inside and looking around, nodding at the picture of Bo Bryce, smiling at the look Bobby gave him.

Bobby shrugged. "I had a weekend off." He joined the brothers. "It's completely demon proof. Not even Lilith is getting in here," he said. "We can stash Rose in here while we figure out the long term."

"No," Rose exclaimed from behind them. Apparently, she had roused herself enough to follow them. Standing there in her stocking feet with her wild hair, she looked like a kid, except for the look of pure terror. "I'm not going in there."

All three men were a little shocked at her reaction. "I know it's not perfect," Bobby said soothingly.

Rose started shaking her head and backing up. "You can't make me!" Bile rose up in her throat and she forced it down.

None of them understood. Not even Dean. For him, Hell had been open pits of fire and carnage and pain, surrounded by the screams of the damned he couldn't save.

For Rose, it had been a series of rooms. Rooms where she'd been held away from everyone except her tormenters. Brightly lit, cold, sterile rooms filled with knives, whips, razors, cruel, mocking laughter and the sound of her own blood dripping onto the floor. Rooms she'd had to fight her way out of, holding her own guts inside with her bare hands while she searched desperately for her brother.

The very sight of Bobby's panic room brought back memories of those other rooms crashing in on her skull. She didn't scream like she had then, but she nearly bit through her lip trying to keep the vomit at bay the way she hadn't been able to in those other rooms.

Sam, oddly, was the first to realize what was happening. He ran to where she was doubled over and bought them both to the floor, holding her in a tight embrace. "It's okay, Rose, you're here now. Come on, come back, it's okay." She was shaking and silent, and Sam gave Dean a pleading look that broke the oldest from his trance.

He dropped to his own knees and ran his hand over her back over and over again. "It's okay, baby girl," he said quietly. "You don't have to go in there. You're with us now, and we won't make you. We won't make you."

Rose took a deep breath, then another, as she slowly returned to her present reality. As the memories retreated back into their dark corners, shame emerged, white hot and just as painful, its own form of Hell. She stood stiffly, pulling away from her brothers and keeping her eyes cast to the ground. "I need some air."

"Rose..." Sam began.

Ignoring him, she turned and ran up the stairs.

He brothers tried to follow, but Bobby called them back, tears in his own eyes. "Give her some time, boys, give her some time."

Rose didn't stop running until she got to the junkyard. Breathing heavily and crying freely, she leaned against an old, rusted out Ford. "Castiel," she prayed, wondering if he was listening. "Please. I need to talk to you." No answer. "Please." Still no answer. "Come on you, son-of-a-bitch!"

"Temper temper," said the man coming out from behind another pile of cars. "I thought we taught you better."

Rose recognized the demon for who and what he was and let out a scream.

It died on her lips when a second demon got his hands around her throat.


	12. Love and War

AN: Thanks for the reviews! Angeleye, intothenothing, and Magical Faery, your support makes my little author heart beat faster and my muse eact moe quickly. And, zanita, I miss you. Comments and suggestions are always welcome.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Rose.

Sam and Dean were on Bobby's back stoop when they heard the scream. Without even looking at each other, they took off running in that direction.

They rounded a pile of junked cars and found their sister surrounded by demons. One of them, possessing a tall man with a football player's body and buzzcut red hair, was holding her off the ground by her throat, her feet kicking at the air while she clawed at the hands holding her.

Three of the other four, two men and one woman, turned to face the Winchester men, while the last one just continued to watch Rose being strangled.

Dean launched himself at the one attacking his sister, catching him in a rugby tackle and bringing him to the ground. He let go of Rose who rolled away and lay gasping, trying to clear the black spots from her vision.

Dean felt himself getting pulled up by the collar and tossed against a rusty car by the last demon, the one who had been content to watch Rose die. The demon was wearing someone in a janitor's uniform, a tall man, skinny as a rail, middle aged, with white eyes instead of black.

"Hello, Dean," he said in a voice like nails on a chalkboard though a sinus infection, hands holding Dean in place with an iron grip. "Did you miss me?" He stopped Dean from answering by punching him in the mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw three demons circling Sam, while the one that had tried to squeeze the life out of Rose came back, attempting to finish the job. She was ready this time, on her feet in time to block the fist. Muttering a Latin incantation, she pulled her body into a fighting stance.

His attention was forcibly drawn back to the white-eyed demon when a second punch landed on his face. "What's the matter, Dean? Don't you recognize me?"

"You all look the same to me," he replied through the blood filling his mouth.

"That hurts, Dean. We were so close..." The demon banged Dean's head against the car. "In Hell."

"Alastair," Dean mumbled, suddenly cold down to his bones. Memories of razors and taunts came flooding back, the most painful ones not directed at him.

"Bingo."

Rose exorcised her demon and turned to see which brother needed her more. Dean was getting pummeled, but Sam was surrounded and way outnumbered. She took a step toward him then realized why the demons weren't already attacking him-they couldn't.

Sam was standing with his feet set in a wide stance and his hand up, palm out. He was concentrating. Blood started to drip from his nose but he never broke focus. Rose felt a wave of power around her that was strong enough to make her head hurt. Some part of her recognized it as Sam and some part of her cringed away from the power screaming EVIL in her mind.

This internal conflict literally paralyzed her and she could only watch as Sam made a fist in the air and pulled his hand down sharply. Black smoke poured from the mouths of the meatsuits. Rose could feel that Sam wasn't exorcising the demons.

He was killing them.

The same part of her that had cringed away earlier was trying to run. She actually took a step back, but then the sounds of bone breaking and Dean grunting in pain helped her refocus.

Sam held his hand out again and made a sweeping motion with it, frowning when nothing happened.

Alastair must have felt something because he let go of Dean, who slumped to the ground, blood streaming from an obviously broken nose. Rose ran over to him and held his face in her hand, trying to see how bad the damage was.

"Not strong enough for that yet, Sammy," the white-eyed demon said. "You're gonna have to bone up before you take me on." He made the same motion that Sam had, except that Sam went spinning into tower of cars.

Alastair turned to Rose. She flinched away from the demon she could see under the skin. She didn't move far, but Dean could feel it.

He struggled to his feet. "Stay away from her, you sonofabitch!" He spat, holding onto his sister's shoulder. "Don't you touch her."

Alastair laughed and flung Dean several feet away. "Well, little girl," he said conversationally, coming closer. "I'm not sure why you wanted to come back here. I hate this Arctic hole, but, then again," he pulled an old fashioned straight razor from his pocket. "Hell was never as fun for you." Rose could see that she was trapped and refused to back away. "I can see it now, what lies underneath that teenage angst. It's disgustingly bright and shiny. No toy is fun until it gets a little...used." He looked over at Dean and laughed again. "How is it that you can still look at your brother? You know what I got him to do. What stains his soul now."

Rose felt something snap within her, some sort of energy surge. Anger and something else. Rage wasn't the only fuel making her strong, and she closed the distance between herself and the demon. She instinctively put her hand on his forehead, pushing that energy forward. There was a glimmer of light, and images, dark and terrible images, started flying past her eyes too quick to understand.

Alastair let out a bloodcurdling screech and shoved her, hard.

Just as he was closing in on her again, a bolt of lightning came out nowhere and, with a gurgle, Alastair was gone.

Rose wasn't even singed.

"What the hell?" Dean asked as Sam helped him to stand and walk over to Rose.

"Guess again," Castiel said, appearing in front of them, looking amused. "Now do you understand why Rose needs to come with me?"

"What's going on?" Rose demanded to know, stepping away from the angel's outstretched hand.

"I told you," Castiel said calmly, hand falling to his side. "Lilith is-"

"That's not what I mean," Rose interrupted. "What's going on with me? With my powers? They've been the same for years and now, I mean, not only can I not control them, I don't even know what they _are _right now."

She expected him to either tell her or deny knowing. She wasn't expected for him to look her straight in the eye and say, "I can't explain that right now."

That made her angry. "Then go, just go. I can't trust you when you won't even tell me what going on with my own powers."

Castiel almost looked hurt. "I understand your frustration. But I have my orders. Heaven says that there are things you can't know."

"Yeah, well, I understand that it's easier to just be a hammer of Heaven then a person." She regretted that term the moment she used it, but she just kept going. "But this is my life we're talking about, my **head**."

"I am sorry," he said sincerely before vanishing.

"I swear," Dean said, pushing away from Sam to hold his own weight. "We need to make that guy wear a bell." He looked around at the bodies. "I seriously hate demons."

Rose was finally getting her shower and her brothers were in the middle of telling Bobby why they were all beat to shit and why there were four bodies in his backyard when they heard a crash and a scream coming from upstairs.

All three men rushed up to the spare room/library to see Rose on the floor in her panties and Sam's massive t-shirt, head cradled in her hands. "Make it stop," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

They couldn't see the images swirling through her brain, the millions of pictures going off like flash photography in her skull. But they could see the way her skin was splitting open and healing itself and the light that was starting to emanate from the cracks.

Her brothers were afraid to touch her, afraid to touch that raw skin and make it worse, but they couldn't stay away from her, getting as near as they could.

She looked up at them, her eyes unnaturally bright."Help me. Dean, Sammy, I can't, please, make it stop. Help me." Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed into Sam's arms, unconscious and shivering.


	13. Rose, Interrupted

AN: Sorry these are taking so long folks. My beta and I are both in college and with all that's going on. Thanks for sticking with me. Any concerns or questions that you have, I will try to address. This is interactive! And, yes, I know that this is sorta an episode of Supernatural... No real connections.

Disclaimer: I only own Rose. More's the pity. Although I do have print out picture of all the boys on my closet door.

"Where are we again?" Dean asked, pulling into the non-descript driveway of the non-descript house that Bobby indicated. He could see people leaving their little suburban castles and going about their lives and how dare they when his little sister was suffering? He looked into the rearview mirror for the thousandth time since they left Bobby's house hours ago and saw the same thing he had seen every time before that-Rose lying in the backseat, deathly pale and still except for the occasional tremor that wracked her body. Her head was in Sam's lap. His hands had stoked her hair continuously for the past 531 miles while he stared at the back of Dean's seat, afraid to look down.

"Pamela Barnes," Bobby explained for what felt like the tenth time, but was probably only the fifth. "Second best psychic in the country and the best within a six hour drive."

"Right," Dean said, looking back at his sister. She looked so small and fragile. "Hey, Sam, can you get her? We're here."

Sam just nodded. Opening his door, he slid out carefully, then gathered the girl up in his arms. Bobby went on ahead to knock on the door while Dean walked next to his siblings, watching to make sure that Sam held her correctly. It reminded him of when Rose was a baby, and he had to teach Sam the right way to hold her head.

He need not have worried.

The woman who opened the door and hugged Bobby was not what Dean would have expected. She was a thin brunette with a husky voice and a Ramones tank top. "Hey there, Bobby."

"Pamela, you are a sight for sore eyes," Bobby said with a tired but genuine smile. He indicated the Winchesters. "Dean, Sam, and Rose."

"Poor thing," she said, her face softening. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you three, but, under the circumstances..." She got out of the way and motioned them inside."First right is my seance room; put her on the couch."

They did as they were all told, while Pamela turned off all of the electric lights, lit some candles, and drew the curtain.

When she turned back, the Winchester men were reluctant to step away, and Bobby hung awkwardly in the doorway.

"You three can stay," she mumbled, answering the unasked question.

"Good," Dean heard himself say. "Good."

"But you have to sit over there." Pamela indicated a table on the other side of the room. "And you have to keep quiet."

"We can do that."

It would really have been the perfect time for Sam to make some sort of comment about Dean's ability to shut up, but Rose was all messed up and everything was all wrong so he said nothing.

The three men took their seats. Pamela pulled a chair to Rose's side. Dean idly saw a "Jesse Forever" tattoo on the small of her back exposed when her tank top rode up, but he refrained from commenting. Some things, not many, but some, were more important than getting laid.

Before she entered a mind, Pamela liked to send out feelers, try to go in informed.

"What the Hell?" She mumbled, talking out loud while she still could for the sake of her audience. "That's weird. There are two energies." She could feel the confusion level in the room go up. "Everyone has an energy source, the soul. It's more than that of course; it's a storehouse for your qualities, who you are. It's hard to explain, but personal energy source is the easiest and the only one psychics can effect." She smiled. "Some things are just beyond the control of even the most talented humans. But, for some reason, I sense two energies inside of Rose."

The fear level, already cloying, spiked even higher after that statement. "Not a demon or...anything evil. It feels like Rose. It may be her powers but, I've never felt anything like it."

Exploration over, Pamela took a deep breath, laid her hand on Rose's forehead and started chanting in a low voice in some strange language. Dean did not know what it was, but it had a lot of zs and ths in it.

Rose seemed almost to calm down, her body stilling and her face looking less distressed.

"That's it," Pamela said encouragingly."Open up for me sweetheart."

Rose remained calm, but the other woman suddenly started to shake. "No!" she said angrily. "No, you can't make me leave."

Touch was crucial to the type of connection Pamela was trying to maintain, but she had to move her hand from Rose's forehead to her wrist, in a grip so tight that the poor girl would probably have bruises.

Suddenly, Pamela's chair, with her in it, shot four feet across the floor. "Damnit!" She turned to Rose's family. "I've lost connection."

The men, who had been watching the show with mounting trepidation, all reacted at once. Dean was the only one actually yelling, but they were all three asking some form of "why?" or "what happened?"

Pamela shrugged, the mental combat having given her a migraine. "Rose's mind is very guarded. I was still scratching at the first barriers, when, suddenly, there was this foreign, extremely powerful presence confronting me. Castiel."

Dean snorted. "Of course."

"The angel," Bobby explained.

Pamela nodded, having remembered from their earlier phone conversation. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in the muscles. "If it makes you feel better, he only showed ill will toward me. I only felt concern for Rose. He's there to help." She patted Rose's shoulder softly. "Plus, Rose is still in there, and she hasn't given up."

They all looked at the still form of the young woman fighting the battle in her own head.

"I'm gonna call Missouri," Pamela said after a moment. "Maybe she knows something else we can try."

"If you don't mind," Bobby interjected, standing and stretching. "I'd like to take a look at a few of your books. Maybe I can find some sort of explanation." He looked over at the brothers. "Sam, would you like to help?"

He didn't want to leave his sister, but he also needed to feel proactive. "Sure."

"What should I do?" Dean asked.

Pamela, phone cradled against her shoulder, answered. "Talk to her. From what I've felt, if anyone can get through to her, it'll be you."

"Isn't that what they always tell the family of coma patients?"

"For a reason, Dean, for a reason."

When he was alone with his sister, Dean gave in to his impulse to push her hair back from her face. He pulled the chair up to her, but that reminded him of the vigil he had kept at Sam's side after Cold Oak and made him a little sick to his stomach, so he opted for an uncomfortable crouch instead.

"Uhm, hey Rose. I don't know if you can hear me, but I hope so." He laughed a little weakly. "Look, I know you've been the one helping me out lately, but I can't shake the fact that I should be the one protecting you. You've gotta come back, baby girl. Where you're at, I can't follow. Ok, I need you to come back. We need you to come back." He slid his hand down to hers and clutched it tightly. "You probably don't realize how important you are to this family. But, when you were in the boarding school, and it was just me and Dad, God, I missed you every day. And I am sorry that I let him send you away. I was trying to protect you." He huffed out a laugh that was more sadness then mirth. "That's a little rich now, I guess. But you're my baby sister."

He wiped away a tear, keeping one hand wrapped around her smaller one. "When you were a baby, before Mom died, I just, I looked out for you then too. Mom used to laugh that she never needed to check on you because I did it before bed every night for her. I loved the way you smelled, all soft skin and baby shampoo. We almost lost you in the hospital when you were just a couple of weeks old, some sort of virus. You were really early and so damn small." He laughed again. "Your butt fit in my hand and I was not a big kid either." He ruffled her hair and then smoothed it again. "I swore then that I would always look out for you and I haven't always done the best job. I am so, so sorry." He looked down at her and more tears started to leak out, despite his best efforts. He kept his voice level though, just in case she could hear him, he didn't want to scare her. She was obviously dealing with a lot. "I know that it's selfish of me to ask you for anything after Hell, but you have to keep fighting, you have to come back to me. Please, Rose. Please."


	14. In The White Room

AN: This chapter is pretty long, hopefully it will make up for the possible wait time for the next one. I thought that you guys had waited long enough for answers...

IntotheNothing: Dean's not so good an verbalizing his emotions. I figured this was like his monologue to Sam when Sam was lying there dead.

Rose could feel herself starting to go insane. Every vision she would ever have, could ever have, millions of images flooding through her mind at the speed of light, faster. She struggled to understand, to exert some control, but she couldn't.

She did not know how long she spent trying, but it felt like eternity. It felt like she was seeing all of eternity laid out like a billion photographs stretching through her brain.

Eternity hurt like Hell. Literally.

She could feel her mind slipping away from her when a soft whisper entered her consiousness. She could not discern the actual words, but the tone was soothing and encouraging. It gave her something else to fixate on, helped her ground herself a little against the swirl of light and color and thoughts.

Then, something like a scream reverberated though her skull, making her grit her teeth and screw her eyes shut against the sudden pain of it. The scream died as quickly as it started.

She took a deep breath and then another, then realized that she couldn't see anything because her eyes were still closed, which meant that she had some control. Slowly, she opened them, a little worried about what she would see.

She was standing in what appeared to be a large room, enormous even. She could not see walls or doors or windows, but she could feel what appeared to be a very solid floor under her feet. Everything was white. White like a styrofoam cup or paper, but much brighter. It was that same artificial, never-found-in-nature type of white. There was no furniture of any type that she could see; just her and the startling, glaring white.

Rose was fairly certain that she'd finally gone completely off her rocker. Still, it was clean and warm and she was halfway tempted to just close her eyes and rest in this strangely stable mental instability.

"You are not mad," said someone behind her.

For some reason, she was not at all surprised to hear Castiel's voice. Instead, she turned around almost leisurely. "Dean's right, we do need to get you a bell."

For some reason, Rose thought it amused him. He did not smile exactly, but he looked more at ease so Rose thought it was a win. "I take it you are no longer angry with me."

She shrugged. She wanted to be, but it all seemed so _long _ago. What was the point of being angry when you were nuts and couldn't do anything anyway? "I guess not. I'm too luneytoons to be pissed." Her reference clearly puzzled the angel. He cocked his head to the side like a puppy and that thought made her giggle. For some reason, the Kryto the Superdog theme started running through her head. Great, even her crazy brain was going crazy. "I always thought that the inside of my head would look like a Jim Morrison acid trip, not an Eric Clapton." A thought occurred to her and she frowned. "This is the inside of my head, right?"

"In a manner of speaking...yes."

"Okay, just making sure I didn't go crazy in someone else's head-psychic and all that. Now, why are YOU inside my head?"

He started to reach for her, then stopped and let his arm fall to his side. She noticed that he did that a lot. "You were right."

"I usually am. What was I right about this time?" Suddenly tired of standing, she dropped onto her butt and crossed her legs Hindu style. "Have a seat."

Out of nowhere, Castiel conjured a bench. It was a little irritating that he could make things in her head, but she was not too proud to scramble up to park it next to him. "It was your mind, your life. You deserve to know what is happening to you." He turned his face to really look at her, his blue eyes brighter than the room. "But you were also wrong. I am not a hammer, Rose. I have...doubts. I recognize that we have the power, the authority to do what we deem necessary. That does not always give us the right."

"It doesn't," she agreed. She did not say anything else, understanding somehow, just how hard this was for him.

"You are not mad," he said again. "This room, it is my creation, a place for us to talk."

"You built a conference room in my head?" She made a face that she learned from Sam. She thought it was Bitchface number nine. "That's kinda disturbing."

"No one else, not even an archangel, could do this," he assured her. "We have a special connection."

"Yeah, yeah," she said with a smile and a fondness in her voice that surprised her a little bit. "You're my guardian angel."

He shook his head. "It goes much, much deeper than that."

"Ooookay," she said, eyeing him warily. "I'll bite. What does that mean?"

"Your father..." Castiel paused and gave her a look she understood less than normal. "He died in Vietnam."

"Uhmmm...No. No, he didn't." It was the most intelligent thing she could think to say at that moment.

"Yes, he did," Castiel insisted gently. "Mary made a deal. With Azazel, the Yellow-Eyed-Demon."

"That's not possible," she said numbly, unable to fully process what the angel was telling her. "She wasn't dragged away by Hell Hounds, and she had more than ten years."

"That is because, ten years after the deal, Azazel did not come for your mother," Castiel said sadly. "She did not deal away her own soul. She gave him Sam."

Rose just stared at him.

"When your brother was an infant, Azazel took his prize. He..." Castiel paused and put his hand on her shoulder. It was nice, sitting there with her in that bright place of his own creation, hearing her heartbeat and looking at nothing but clean whiteness. He did not want to cause her more pain. But he knew that he had to. "Your brother is infected with demon blood."

"No!" Rose protested, jumping up and pointing a shaky, accusatory finger at the angel. "No...You're, that's not true! You're wrong. Sam, Sammy is not part demon!"

"You know that it is true," he said softly, eyes searching her face, looking deeper than the skin. "You have felt it. You know the darkness that fuels Sam's abilities."

She wanted to argue more, to scream and shout. But...she did know, she had sensed it. "Oh, God," she moaned, all but collapsing onto the bench. "Sammy." She lifted tear-filled eyes to meet his and he felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest. "My brother is a good person."

"And he is not damned," Castiel assured her.

Slightly mollified, she turned to face the white. "What, what does that have to do with me?"

"We found out about the deal too late to save Sam. Rose, your family will decide the future."

"How?" she asked in a very small, tired voice.

"I honestly do not know."

She must have believed him, because she nodded. "Go on."

"In order to, hopefully, counteract the demonic influence, it was insured that John and Mary would have a third child."

"Me." It was obvious, but she said it anyway.

"You." He put his hand around her shoulders again, knowing that physical contact was often a comfort to humans. She all but melted into his embrace. "When you were created, before you truly came into being, Heaven gave you a blessing, a gift. We touched your soul with grace."

"Grace?" she asked, leaning her head against the back of the bench, the hard feeling of it the only thing that seemed real.

"Energy, power..." He struggled to put to words what was the most basic knowledge to him. "It is what makes an angel essentialy. Our source of power and our connection to Heaven."

"Source of power?" Her eyes, beautiful mixture of green, gold, and brown, widened and she looked at him again. "My psychic stuff-"

"Is your own, inherited from your father's side," he clarified. "As is Sam's. They way that they manifest, however, and their potency are influenced by the Grace and blood."

"But, if I've had this Grace my whole life, then why are my powers going all," she made a violent fluttering motion of her hand.

It took him a moment to interpret that. "Because, it lay mostly dormant, acting in the place of instinct occasionally, its main function keeping you safe."

"You make it sound like a creature," she said with a small smile. "And you still haven't answered my question."

"When you went to Hell, I told you, a human could not survive that sort of pain. Your grace had to become more...proactive. Your life depended on being able to resist the demons."

"So, when the demons stripped away my physical strength, the Grace had to compensate. Like, when someone goes blind, their hearing gets better," Rose said beginning to understand. "And when I got back..."

"The floodgates had opened," Castiel said, pleased that she was understanding. "Increasing your powers to their fullest levels, while not giving your mind time to adjust. There is only so much humans can know, and you are able to push those limits." He gave her shoulders a little squeeze. "We never anticipated that you would go to Hell. You were supposed to learn about your Grace and begin using it under supervision. My supervision."

"Ah." She noticed the almost possessive way he said 'My,' and it was both worrying and comforting. "Why your supervision? Because you're my protector? How did you get that job anyway?"

He paused, trying to decide if that would be too much to tell her. "Your Grace, it came from me. I carved out a piece of mine to twine with your soul."

She looked at him again and blinked owlishly at him for several long moments. "What?" It came out more of a croak. "I don't...How much?"

"Only God can make grace, Rose," he said quietly. "We knew what needed to be done and, when I saw your soul, I volunteered." Her soul was a beautiful thing, slightly cracked like all human souls, a little faded in the brightness of the Garden, but more beautiful than most. He remembered feeling that there was a strength in that soul that was unusual for mortals, something compelling. "I did not give you much. Humans, even one such as you, cannot fully comprehend our power. What I gave you did not even diminish my own abilities." That was true, what he gave was a tiny amount, but Castiel still remembered the pain that came with the act of literally cutting, slicing away that piece of his own soul. He looked at his charge and thought, not for the first or last time, that it was worth it.

"Thank you," she said quietly, a little overwhelmed. She was pretty sure she did not deserve anything like that. She knew her own frailty and weaknesses, could feel them when she closed her eyes. "What do I do now?"

"I can lock most of it away inside you again," he said. "Back inside your soul, so that we can work together as we were supposed to do."

"Will you?" she asked, a little scared at the prospect of training in the Angel Olympics. "As nice as this place is, going crazy doesn't have much appeal."

In answer, Castiel put one hand on her forehead and the other over her heart. A warmth flooded through her, a sense of peace and her soul almost sang a song of recognition. It was one of the most intimate moments of her life, as part of her soul came into contact with the giver of a part of it.

He withdrew his touch, and she left shaken and oddly bereft.

"Is that it?"

"Yeees..." he answered slowly, staring at his hands deeply puzzled. She wondered if he felt anything like what she felt. "Are you ready to go back now?"

"I guess." She rubbed her face, suddenly wanting to stay in this safe place with her friend. But she couldn't leave her brothers out there. Nothing could make her really want to abandon them. "I am not looking forward to telling Dean and Sam this story."

"I understand." He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in to kiss her forehead. "I will see you soon."

"Not too soon. We need sleep. And food." She smiled at him, wondering when this comaraderie had really started. "Humans have needs."

"I will take that under consideration." She could not tell, but she thought he looked amused.

Everything got very bright very quickly, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was lying on a couch in a strange room, and Dean was sitting on the floor next to her head between his knees. She reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Deano."

"Rosie?" He looked up at her and a mixture of emotions crossed his face. "Are you back? Ok?"

"I think so." They were speaking quietly, but Sam apparently heard them from the other room, because he came skidding into the room, pen in hand.

"Rose? Are you okay?"

"I tihnk so," she repeated, sitting up. "Ow, my neck hurts."

"Easy," Dean said, sitting next to her and putting his hand over the sore spot, thumbs digging in to work out the kink. "Easy now."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"That's kind of a long story."


	15. Clowns to the Left of Me

AN: Sorry about two things. The delay it took to get this chapter to you... And for this chapter in general... I am not sure exactly what happened here, but this is the way this chapter insisted on being written. I promise we'll get to something exciting very soon.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything!

Rose had to wait to tell her story until two things happened. One, Pamela decided to do some shopping and leave the Winchesters and Bobby alone for a while, and, two, Dean forced a peanut butter sandwich down her throat.

Sam sat next to her on the couch while she talked, Dean sat on a chair across from her, and Bobby sat at the table across the room.

She started out by telling them about the visions, what little she remembered.

"So, you could see the whole future?" Sam asked.

"It wasn't just that," Rose explained. "It was every _possible_ future all rushing past me at once."

"No wonder you shut down," Bobby said sympathetically.

Rose just nodded and continued. However, when she got the part about Mary's debt, she faltered on her words, trailing off and looking down at her hands twisting in her lap.

Sam thought he knew what was troubling her and he realized that it was time to come clean. With a heavy heart and a churning in his belly, he put a hand between her shoulderblades. "I know already."

"You do?" She asked with wide eyes.

"I found out the day...I found out in Cold Oak."

"Ah."

"Found out what?" Dean asked testily, hating the feeling that he was missing something.

He was quiet while she explained. In fact, he was quiet while she told the entire rest of her story. He did not look at anyone, instead, he stared at his boots like they were the most interesting things in the world.

He kept looking at his boots for several moments after she finished.

"Dean?" Rose asked, a little frightened by this uncharacteristic silence.

He held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. Sam, Rose, and even Bobby, watched him, unsure. "Mom...made a deal...with Yellow Eyes," he repeated slowly, ennunciating very clearly. "And Sam is part demon." No one said anything. He looked up at his siblings and they did not think that he actually was seeing them. "I guess that explaines the whole 'abomination' crack Uriel made."

"Dean," Sam said, a little broken at that. "I'm still..." he trailed off. There were times, when the dark twisted in his gut, that he was unsure what he was, what he had ever been. Rose put her hand on his knee. Knowing that his little sister was touched by grace, a small part of him wanted to twist away, keep her from being untainted by his own personal stain. But another part of him, a selfish part, just wanted to lean into to the comforting gesture. It scared Sam a little just how big that selfish part of him was.

Sam and Rose watched their brother stand up, movements oddly stiff. "I gotta get some air."

Rose stood, hand moving to Sam's shoulder. "Dean..."

Dean heard the fear behind the way she said his name, the uncertainty. It broke his heart and added to the weight on his shoulders. He needed to get away from the two people calling to him n that simple refrain, the broken record of doubt, fear, and pain that haunted him, haunted their family.

"I'll, Rose, I need some air."

He slammed the door on his way out.

Sam and Rose did not look at each other, though Sam's hand crept to his shoulder to squeeze her own, infinitely smaller, hand.

"I'll go after him," Bobby volunteered, rising from his seat.

Rose and Sam gave him identical looks on mixed amusement and resignation. "He won't be out there," Rose said with a small, wry smile. "Not for a while."

She was right. The moment Dean got outside, he remembered why he hated the suburbs. Everything was too close together, too similar. As far as the eye could see there were houses where people lived, people who had no idea what his life was like, people who would run screaming from what his sister had been seeing since she was seven years old.

Of course, his sister was not entirely human. Neither was his brother.

"Dammit!" He kicked the Impala's tire, sorry about both taking it out on his car and about the sudden pain in his foot.

He glanced back at the house, knew that his family was safe for the moment. "Sorry, Baby," he said to the Impala as he unlocked the door. The familiar rumble of the engine made him feel slightly more in control.

"I don't know what to do," he told the Impala as he backed her out of the driveway.

He really did not. The demon blood pumping through Sam's system, it heightened the fears he had when Sam killed Jake. Dean was no psychic, but he knew Sam Winchester. He knew that there was something dark in Sam, something demonic. The only way he knew how to fight the demonic was not an option. It did not matter what Sam did, Dean would not kill his brother. He would die, he would sacrifice the whole world for his brother.

The whole world except for Rose. Would he let Sam pay to save her? If Sam's powers could save her from Lilith... Dean hated his life, hated that it might come to that.

Rose scared him for another reason, lessing pressing but also heavy on his heart. She went to HELL. For him. Her powers were getting stronger because of it, because of him. She was bonded to an angel. For now, she was the same, or as close to it after 40 years in Hell, his sweet little sister, his baby, but what would happen when the angels kept calling? Would she realize that she was too good for their family. Dean had thought so for a long time, that was why he let John send her away to that school, but he did not think he could stand it if she left of her own free will, if she left him, realized how broken and screwed up and pitiful he was. Or if she decided that Sam was getting out of control, what would an angeljuiced Rose be able to do?

He almost wished that he could see the future. His own imagination had his family shattering like glass under impact. His vision blurred and he pulled off the road. He was in an area a lot less populated than Pamela's neighborhood, but Dean still did not get out of the car.

Instead, he leaned his head back against the upholstry and wished for a drink. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. He was afraid of what he might see if he closed his eyes, but he dozed off anyway.

He saw Sam with black spreading over his corneas, Rose with a cold expression on her face and shadows wings erupting from her shoulders, Rose all bloody, barely human, one clawlike hand reaching up to him from the floor of sinew and flesh on which she lay, his own hands holding a razor, swift and sure.

Dean bolted upright, shaking his head wildly. "No," he told himself sternly. Thinking about Hell, about what might happen in the future, that would not do him any good in the present and his family needed him. And he needed to atone.

He took a deep breath and started the car, smiling a little at the old, familiar Bob Dylan tune coming over the airwaves.

When he got back to the house, Sam was asleep on the couch, which was far too small for him, his knees almost up to his chin and one shoulder hanging off the edge. Rose and Bobby were at the table, a glass of iced tea in front of her and a bottle of beer in front of him, both of them with old, leather-bound books in hand.

It was so cozy and domestic that it hurt.

Rose noticed him coming in and peered at him over her book. "Hey," she said in measured tone, voice pitched low enough to keep from waking Sam.

"Hey," Dean echoed, in both word, tone and volume.

"I'm gonna see if Pamela has any more beer," Bobby said, standing abruptly. He still had an almost full bottle, but he figured that it was an good and excuse as any to give the Winchesters their privacy. He loved those three like they were his own, but he also knew that they were not. It did not bother him. They were not John's either really. Dean, Sam, and Rose, no matter how much they loved anyone else, would always be each others.

Rose, who could see the level of the liquid Bobby had left just smiled at his retreating back, before she refocused her attention on Dean. "Done soul searching?"

Dean wanted to deny that he had done any such girly thing, but that was what he had been doing so he stayed quiet.

"I'm still me," she said quietly. "And that is still Sam."

"I know," he said. "I'm just...freaked. If you stop being you, what would I be willing to do?"

Rose nodded, deliberately not looking at Sam, although they both knew he was the major topic. "And?"

Dean's lips pressed into a thin line and Rose could see all of the years in Hell behind his eyes. "I would know what I would have to do. And there are some things..." He took a step toward his sister then stopped, hands rubbing awkwardly at his jeans. "There are some things I can't do."

"Me neither," she said, looking over at Sam for the first time and smiling. "No matter what I could never-" She shook her head and turned the smile to Dean. "It's actually a comfort to you isn't it." It was not a question. "That I couldn't kill a darkside Sam."

Dean nodded.

"Our lives are weird," she said, laughing quietly at the morbid absurdity of their lives.

"You're telling me," Dean agreed, smiling himself and moving over to finish Bobby's beer.

Rose's grin was replaced suddenly by a look of intense concentration, pink tongue sticking out slightly, brow furrowed deeply.

"What is it?" Dean's hand crept toward the gun in his waistband.

"We've got company," she said, relaxing slightly. "Angels incoming."

So, this time neither was surprised when Uriel and Castiel showed up in Pamela's living room.

"What do you want?" Dean asked in a loud enough voice to wake Sam.

"You." Uriel said, ignoring Sam and Rose. "We need you to interrogate Alastair."


	16. The BloodDimmed Tide is Loosed

AN: I am so sorry this took so long, y'all. Hopefully, none of you deserted me.

Disclaimer: Just own Rose and teddy bear named John Watson.

"What?" Sam almost squawked as he unfolded his body from its awkward, and slightly embarrassing, position. He stood on the opposite side of the room from his siblings and he stared at the angels.

Uriel's eyes slid over to Sam. "We captured Alastair and, so, far, our best efforts at extracting information have proven unsuccessful." His lips curled into a sneer. "It seems that demons are more adept at certain things."

"But why come get Dean?" Sam demanded to know. "He's got nothing to do with anything."

"I wouldn't say that," Uriel said, sneer changing into an unbearably arrogant smirk. "We came because who would be better to break Alastair than his student?" He turned to Dean and shrugged. "You are, after all, the best interrogator we have."

"Oh no," Rose breathed, realizing where the angels were going with this. "No, no, no…You can't ask this."

"Not this," Dean echoed quietly, looking down at his shoes.

Uriel's smirk grew impossibly smugger. "Who said anything about asking?"

Rose realized what was happening a moments before the angel whooshed over to Dean. It only gave a split second to act, but she darted forward and grabbed Castiel's coat.

With a sound of wing-beats, Sam was left alone in the room. "Damn it!"

The other four arrived inside an abandoned warehouse; Uriel and Dean landed in the customary, upright and standing position, but Castiel, who had not been expecting a passenger, stumbled, Rose crashing awkwardly into his arms. She scrambled away from the full body contact with a light blush, straightening her shirt awkwardly.

Dean looked around the room, scanning it for evidence as to where they were exactly. It was dark and damp, with flickering electric lights and a steel door at each end. One of them was completely solid, but the one closer to them had a single pane of glass.

He could see Alastair through it, shackled with iron chains to an iron pentagram in the middle of a devil's trap. His head was hanging low, but it looked like he was singing to himself, body swaying slightly in the chains so that it looked like he was trying to dance. The strung up body looked so familiar to Dean that he felt a hot bubble of vomit rising in his throat. It took him several moments to force it down.

"The devil's trap is old Enochian," Castiel explained. "He is bound completely."

"Fascinating," Dean said airily, turning away from the sight. He put his hand on his sister's shoulder, and they started toward the other door. They walked past Uriel, but were forced to stop when Uriel appeared in their path.

"Angels are dying, boy," he growled, gripping Dean's jacket in his fists.

"And I feel for you, I do," Dean replied, keeping his voice even. "And, hey, I get it. You're all powerful. You can make me do whatever you want." He winced slightly when Uriel picked him up off his feet. "But you can't make me do this."

"This is too much to ask," Castiel said, "but we have to ask it." He was looking mainly at Dean, but he was also watching Rose's reactions out of the corner of his eye.

Dean was having a slightly difficult time breathing, but he was still checking to make sure that his sister was okay.

Rose was watching Castiel with an intent expression on her face, her hand gripping Dean's wrist. She turned to Uriel after a short moment. "We want to talk to Cas alone."

"Really?" Uriel smirked, eyes darting over to his fellow angel. "I'm not sure if I should allow it, given what happened the last time you were alone together."

Dean did not really know what Rose was hoping to accomplish by talking to Castiel, but Uriel was pissing him off by refusing and by trying to choke him.

"If you want a snowball's chance of me going in there, " Dean declared, "then you're gonna have to let go of me, shag ass, and let us talk."

Uriel smiled, oddly amused by Dean's cheek. "I think I'll go seek revelation." He let Dean drop. "We might have further orders."

"You guys need to walk more," Dean mumbled, fixing his shirt and glaring at the space where Uriel had been standing. "You're gonna get flabby."

Rose snorted, but Castiel had no reaction.

"You know, I am starting to think that Uriel had a better sense of humor than you do."

"Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison," Castiel replied, a little confused as to Dean's point. "Ask anyone."

Dean rolled his eye and Rose ignored him, instead walking over to Castiel. "What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel order you?"

He shifted his weight a little, uncertainly. Dean had never seen the angel uncertain before. "My superiors are starting to question my sympathies."

"Your sympathies?" Rose laid her hand on his elbow.

He shook it off, giving her an almost regretful look, before he turned his back to her and walked a little away. "I was getting to close to the humans in my care." He turned around and, even though he said 'humans' he was looking only at Rose. "You." The intensity, almost bordering on intimacy, in the look shared between his sister and the angel made Dean feel like he was trespassing on a private moment.

"They feel," Castiel continued, "that I have begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment."

Rose had a feeling that his explanation session with her had something to do with it. "Cas-"She said very softly, wondering if she should apologize, wondering if she wanted to.

"Well, tell Uriel," Dean said, interrupting the terse moment. "Or whoever…you do NOT want me doing this."

"Want it, no," Castiel clarified. "But I have been told that we need it."

"You ask me to open that door and walk through it," Dean could hear the cracking in his own voice, the pain bleeding through it, but he could not do anything about it. "Trust me, you will not like what walks back out."

The angel was silent for a long moment. "What Alastair knows is vital, Dean, to everything. Do you want to stop Lilith and save your sister?"

Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The image of Rose dead like Sam, body cooling in his arms like Sam's playing behind his lids. He had damned himself for one sibling; he would do it again for the other. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay."

"What? No!" Rose protested, darting back over to her brother. "No, we'll figure this out another way. Dean, don't do this." She put her hands on his shoulders and gazed up at him with his own green eyes, like a mirror except that hers were bigger and softer. "I'm not worth this, Dean."

"I'm gonna need some stuff," he said quietly because she was wrong. She was worth anything. "And you gotta, Cas, you gotta take her back to Sam. I can't expose her to this…again. I can't."

Castiel nodded and gave him a look that seemed to say _neither can I. _He put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her gently away from Dean. "Everything you need is already in there."

"Dean, don't do this," Rose begged softly right before they disappeared, leaving Dean alone with his unwanted victim.

He stared at where he had last seen them for several, long moments, then squared his shoulders and went to do his job.

When he opened the door to Alastair's prison, the demon looked up and smiled. "Heaven, I'm in Heaven," he sang in his awful, spine chilling voice. "And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…"

Dean ignored him and walked over to the covered cart near the captured demon.

"When we're together, dancing cheek to cheek," Alastair finished on a loud flourish. Dean pulled away the cloth, revealing a wide array of torture implements, everything from knives and razors, to syringes and Holy Water, to clamps and extractors. He ignored Alastair's chuckle and started examining his tools carefully.

"I'm sorry," the demon apologized, insincerity dripping off his tongue. "This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn't laugh…It's just that-I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me?"

"You get one chance," Dean said calmly, ignoring the taunts. "Tell me Lilith's plan. I want specifics."

"You think I'll see all of your scary toys and spill my guts?"

"Oh, you'll spill your guts one way or another," Dean promised with a slight smirk. "I just didn't want to ruin my shoes."

"Oh, yeah," Alastair said, enjoying watching Dean threaten him.

"Now, answer the question," Dean ordered.

"Or what?" Alastair laughed. "You'll work me over?" He stopped laughing to look at his former pupil with a practiced eye. "But then, maybe you don't want to. Maybe you're, ah, scared to."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Dean replied with a careless shrug he didn't feel.

"Not entirely," the demon corrected. "You left part of yourself back in the Pit." His voice sounded like this was some long anticipated thing. "Let's see if we can get the two of you back together again, shall we?"

"You're gonna be disappointed." Dean continued to look at his tools, selecting them with the same outwardly careless eye as a person might select a prime cut of beef from the meat section of a local grocery store.

"You've not disappointed me so far," Alastair promised. "Come on." He laughed. "You gotta want a little payback for everything I did to you. For all the pokes and prods. Hm?"

Dean remained impassive, at last selecting a long knife and a syringe.

"No? Um…" Alastair smiled again, at last selecting the perfect taunt. "How about for all the things I did to your daddy?"


	17. Welcome to My Nightmare

AN: I am quite frankly amazed that this came out as quickly as it did. Thanks partly to a random free two hours on Friday and then to Lynn being a super-fast beta.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Rose….

Castiel left her outside of a motel, a little dizzy at the quick drop-off. Feeling a sense of déjà-vu, she wondered where she was and why she was left there. "Thanks for all the answers, Cas," she mumbled, looking around and not caring if he could hear her. She saw the Impala parked outside one room and smiled.

She knocked on the door and waited for a moment. Sam must have looked through the peephole because the door opened wide. "Rose! Are you okay?" He pulled her into the room. Out of long held instinct, she stepped over the salt line that was supposed to be around the door, then realized that it was missing.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She was completely lying and sank onto the bed closest to the door, Dean's bed. "God, Sammy…" Everything was moving too quickly and it felt like her whole world was spinning.

Sam sat next to her hesitantly, his heart breaking a little with a splintering he thought should be audible. "Rose? Why did the angels take Dean? What happened…in Hell?"

She took a deep breath, then another. "People say things like 'I went through Hell,' but they didn't really. They never do. Nothing feeling like Hell. You can't imagine, Sam."

"I can," he corrected gently, reliving his time alone.

"No…you really can't." She patted his knee though, in sympathy for the torture that he did suffer. "Time is different there, longer. You spent four months topside. We spent 40 years down below, Sam. 40 years."

"Oh my God," he murmured, feeling the blood drain slightly from his face.

She smiled wryly. It was better than crying. "It's awful, Sam. The pain and the blood and the stench, God, the smell." She shivered and leaned against her big brother for support. Sam immediately put his arm around her. "Sometimes, the ones who tortured me, they would wear your face, or Dean's, sometimes even Mom's." If Sam noticed that she omitted John's name, he said nothing and she was grateful. She buried her face a little more into his chest, hating herself for the weakness, but needing the support. "But, worst of all, I could hear Dean sometimes. I could hear what they were doing to him. I could hear Alastair…" She trailed off, choking back her tears before they escaped completely.

"Alastair," Sam prompted after several moments, tears simmering in his own eyes.

"He was Dean's main inquisitor," Rose explained. "And at the end of every day he offered Dean the chance to get down off the rack, if he would put souls on. And every day, for 30 long years, Dean told him to stick it where the sun don't shine." Rose knew how disgusted Dean was with himself, but she could feel nothing but sympathy and pride in how long he lasted. He did not know that she was coming and he was looking down the barrel of forever. "But, eventually, Sam, God help him, he said 'yes' and he climbed down off that damn rack."

Sam did not know what to do, so he just ran his hand up and down her arm. "It was Hell…surely no one can blame him."

She snorted. "No one but himself. I don't blame him at all. Not for what he did and not for what he almost did to… For what he almost did."

"'For what he almost did?' To whom?" Sam asked, suddenly terrified of this answer.

"Sam..no one could have recognized me," she answered quickly. "I was a wreck. I wasn't dead to start with, so my injuries didn't heal. My tongue, my teeth, one eye…they were all gone."

Sam felt bile rise up hot and acidic in his throat, but choked it down, unwilling to excuse himself when his sister was still telling her story.

"I was literally holding my guts in with my hands. I couldn't talk. I had to crawl like an animal, drag myself along and, when I finally found him, the demons, they put me up on his wrack as a joke." She repeated this part of her story calmer than she had been yet in the night. "He didn't start in on me, but he was willing to. He didn't know it was me but…" She shrugged. "You know Dean. He hates himself for it now."

Sam just nodded.

"Anyway, I got loose and prayed to Castiel. You know the rest." She shrugged again, trying to show her big brother that it seemed like a bigger deal than it was, that she was fine really.

"Sammy," she said, suddenly needy again, clutching his shirt. "We've got to help him. What he's doing to Alastair, Sam, it's going to break him in half all over again. And he's doing it to save me, please, Sam, we've gotta figure it out."

"Of course," he replied, with a softer smile than his sister had seen since she had been back. "Just, give me one moment." He stood up, walking stiffly over to the bathroom, his stomach rolling past the point of control.

Rose could hear him retching from behind the closed door. She debated between going in to comfort him or letting him recover on his own and then pretending nothing happened. She decided that he would rather be alone. Suddenly, the air in their room was overwhelmingly stuffy. She felt dizzy and claustrophobic. She opened the door and stepped into the clean, night air. She sucked in one cool breath after another and lay back against the Impala, glad that Dean's baby could handle the weight as she put her head against the windshield and wept quietly.

She did not mean to pray, had no intention of praying, but she heard Castiel's voice none the less. "You should not have called me, Rose. I was monitoring your brother's progress." He seemed to realize that she was crying and did not know what to do. "Rose?" He put his hand on her knee, but she jerked away, deliberately rolling off of the car.

She twisted, cat-like, to land on her feet. "I didn't call you! I don't want to see you again!" She was angry and meant it, hoping to hurt him. He gave no indication, however, that she had, and that made her even angrier. "I didn't go through Hell to save my brother for this! So that he could torture again, so that he could break all over again!" She rounded the car and went toe to toe with the angel. "My pain, what I went through, does that mean **nothing **to you?" She raised her fist; all the pain, confusion, and fear of the past few days turning into a hot, boiling, raging anger.

He caught her fist mid-punch easily, did it to keep her from being injured when she connected with his practically invincible body. "You know that it matters."

Just like that, she broke down and threw herself against him, burying her face in his trench coat lapel and sobbing. Castiel was an angel, she knew that he already read her emotions like a book and that it was useless to put on a brave face. It was oddly liberating. He had one hand awkwardly gripped around her upper arm and the other just dangled at his side.

Rose pulled away after a few minutes, sobs subsiding into sniffles. "Why?" She looked up at him with tearstained cheeks and wet, wide eyes, "Why are you letting Dean do this?"

"He's doing God's work."

"Torturing?" She backed away a little. "That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before everything we did is undone."

"Who are we to question the will of God?" If Castiel were asking that to an angel, he would be harshly demanding an answer, but his charge was a human and could be forgiven her feelings.

"Unless it isn't His will?"

If the topic were not so serious, Castiel would have been amused. "Then where do my orders come from?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "You said that you have superiors, maybe one of them, but not God." When Castiel said nothing, Rose pushed the issue. "The Father you love, that I have believed in my whole life. You think He wants this? You think He'd ask this of you? Of my brother? You think that what Dean is doing is righteous?"

She got even closer, invading his personal space, as if he knew the concept existed. He refused to meet her eyes.

"What you're feeling, Cas, it's called doubt." She reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly in her own smaller one. "These orders are wrong. You know that. But, please, you can do the right thing… I know you're scared. I am too. But I **need **your help, Castiel. Please."

Castiel adjusted his grip so that his palm cupped hers, like a couple doing a waltz. He lifted their hands and examined them closely, then opened his mouth to say something.

But that's when the vision hit.

"Dean!"


	18. Let It Bleed

AN: Hey people! There is a great story being written by a friend of mine, JustWhelmed, that is based off of the Rose Winchester Chronicles. Welcome to the Hotel Apocalypse. She does not know if there are spoilers, but I am telling y'all that there might be…. ;)

AN2: Sorry this took so long to get posted. Life has been crazy for both Lynn and myself.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Rose. Trust me, if I did, Castiel would have had a shirtless scene by now.

"I had your pop up on my rack for close to a century," Alastair bragged, knowing he had finally found the right taunts. He wanted to cut Dean as deeply as he had in Hell, but Dean was the one wielding the knife this time, so Alastair had to improvise.

"You can't stall forever." Dean was addressing the demon, but he was really talking to himself.

"John Winchester. All the others were so jealous. Your dad made some enemies among all us, all those he sent back. But I got lucky. I got to be the one who sliced up your daddy. And I did." He chuckled. "Pulled out all the stops. Oh, I got him to beg me. I wanted to make him the same offer I made you, turn that final screw."

"Just tell me Lilith's plan, Alastair." Dean took a long swig from a flask in his pocket, then laid his jacket out of the way on the cart.

"But I couldn't," Alastair continued as if Dean had not spoken. "The time wasn't ripe."

Dean picked up a medical bottle and filled it from a jar of water with a rosary floating in it.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Alastair said, barely containing his excitement. "Holy water? Come on. Grasshopper, you're gonna have to do better than that if you want to impress me."

Dean met Alastair's eyes for the first time. "You know something, Alastair? I could still dream. Even in Hell. And over and over and over you know what I dreamt? I dreamt of this moment."

For the first time, the demon began to look a little nervous.

Dean picked up a syringe. "And believe me, I've got a few ideas." He filled it with holy water and tapped it just for emphasis, then crossed the room toward his victim. "Let's get started."

He pushed the needle into Alastair's arm, smiling grimly when the demon screamed; he watched as the veins writhed and bubbled under the skin. He put the needle back on the cart. "Let me know if you want some more. There's plenty left."

"Go directly to Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200."

Dean just smiled. He picked up a knife and poured holy water over it.

"Do you really think this is gonna fix you? Give you closure?" The demon smirked as he watched Dean prepare his next tool. "That is sad. Sad, sad, sad, sad."

Dean stabbed Alastair, could hear the sizzling sound of the holy water burning acridly through his skin.

"I carved you into a new animal, Dean." His words came out loud and shrill, like they were taking the place of a scream of pain. "There is no going back."

"Maybe you're right." Dean was pretty sure he was right and that only made him dig the knife a little deeper. "But now…it's my turn to carve." He sliced the blade upwards and smiled at the scream it earned him.

Unseen by both human and demon, Uriel appeared in the shadows of the room. He knew that there were pipes running all across the ceiling of the warehouse, it was why he picked that location. He reached out and turned the tap of one of them, just enough that it started to drip onto the chalk outline of the devil's trap. Then he was gone.

Dean pulled out the dagger, appreciating the squelching sound the flesh made as it reluctantly let go. He tipped Alastair's head up, heedless of the blood, so that they made eye contact.

The demon laughed. "Now, it's your professionalism I respect." He spat blood onto Dean's jacket, hoping to earn a response.

Dean gave him nothing but a disgusted look. "Tell me Lilith's plan." He threw holy water onto Alastair's face, watching the skin steam and sizzle, smiling as Alastair choked.

He spat out blood and holy water. "You're just not getting deep enough. It's no criticism on you though, you 're doing a great job considering how, I don't know, concrete reality is up here."

Dean could not remember any other victim being so annoyingly talkative. That thought made him feel a little sick to his stomach, so he turned around to pack salt into a jar.

"Honestly, Dean, you have no idea how bad it was, what you did for us. The reason you only got one month…"

Dean was afraid of this train of conversation, but he needed answers so he bit his tongue. Literally, he tasted the coppery tang of blood.

Alastair knew that he had Dean in his power. It was only in a small way, but he enjoyed it. "You know, I should shut up now."

"Then I'm gonna make you talk." Dean was sick and tired of Alastair's games and his own. He wanted to go back to Sam and Rose and get so drunk that he forgot everything and passed out. He poured salt down the demon's throat, the substance burning like fire.

Alastair spat out blood and flesh and struggled for breath, the pain and damage making it a battle. "Something caught in my throat…I think it's my throat."

"Well strap it because I am just starting to have fun." He went back to his cart and hoped that Alastair could not see the defeated slump of his shoulders.

"We were worried that your sweet little sister would get you out." He chuckled. "She has surprising pluck for someone so young and…tender." He made a motion that was maybe supposed to be a shrug. "Still, she failed to save you before you could bring it on."

"Bring what on?"

"And it is written," Alastair's voice lost its mocking tone and became very solemn. "That the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break. The first time you picked up my razor and sliced into that weeping bitch…you broke that first seal, Dean."

Dean turned to face the creature that was his victim and his tormentor . "Seal? What are you talking about?"

Alastair laughed, the triumphant laugh of someone with nothing to lose. "The Apocalypse, kiddo, the very end of days. When we burn this earth down, we will owe it all to you, Dean Winchester."

"You're lying," Dean whispered, praying for it to be false.

"Believe me, son, I wouldn't lie about this. It's kind of a religious thing with me." He glanced over and saw the water dripping and the broken edge of the devil's trap.

Dean did not follow the demon's eyes. "No, I don't think that you are lying. But even if you do bring on the end…" The words tasted sour in his mouth and he turned back to the cart, dousing a knife in salt. "You won't be around to see it."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he whirled around, he saw Alastair there, free of his chains.

"You really should see your plumber about those pipes." He punched Dean, who crashed into his own cart with a crash.

Alastair grinned.

AN3: Yeah, I know that Alastair tried to make John a deal and he refused, but I hate that part. So I changed it. Being an author is great. Mwahahaha


	19. Fidelis ad Mortem

AN: Not been getting nearly as many reviews lately. If there are any criticisms, the review box works for that too. I hate to lose anyone.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Rose.

AN2: The title is Latin and means "Faithful to Death"

Sam, who had been watching his sister and the angel for the last few minutes, heard her yell and darted outside. "Rose?"

She was pale and shaky, but standing, one hand over her eyes and the other hand gripping Castiel's tightly. This did not go unnoticed by her older brother, nor did the way Castiel's free hand held at her elbow.

"Dean…" The hand on her eyes came to rest on Sam's arm.

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. But, if he is, he won't be. Sam, Alastair is going to get loose."

"That's impossible," Castiel declared. "I constructed that devil's trap myself. It's unbreakable."

Rose met Sam's eyes. It struck him; she had always had Dean's eyes, but Rose's eyes had always been more clear, happy, and unguarded. Dean's eyes held the pain. Dean's eyes were old before their time, not Rose's. No longer.

Her voice was soft when she turned to Castiel again. "Cas...Uriel's, Uriel's going to let Alastair out."

The angel actually took a step back. "No, that…" He regained his usual calm. "Is that what you saw?" As long as he had been guarding Rose, her entire life, he had never known her to be wrong.

"Yes."

"Do you know why?"

"I'm not sure." She recounted, leaving out a lot of the Dean torturing details, what had happened in her vision. She told them about the seals, Lucifer, and the apocalypse. "So, come on, we don't have much time."

The two males stared at her.

"Lucifer?" Sam repeated, dumbstruck.

"There must be some sort of misunderstanding," Castiel said. "I must speak with Uriel."

"We have to go to Dean," Rose insisted. "He might have already unleashed Alastair."

"I'll go," Sam immediately volunteered.

"Sam, you're not strong enough to defeat Alastair."

"Don't be so sure of that," he snapped. "Besides, I sure as hell can't fight Uriel." No one said anything and Sam threw his hands up in the air. "Damn it! The longer we spend arguing, the closer Dean gets to danger. Just give me the damn address!"

Castiel nodded and did so, rattling off not only the street address, but also the exact GPS coordinates. "But Rose comes with me," he declared. "I can protect her better than you can, and I am still not convinced that this is no scheme to make her accessible to Lilith."

Sam nodded. "Good idea."

Rose hated being discussed as if she was not there, but she knew it was pointless to interject. "Can we go now? Save Dean and stop Uriel?

Castiel reached out and tapped her forehead. They arrived in a wooded clearing. It was actually very pretty all lit up by moonlight-soft, silvery shine drifting through the leaves like lace on the grass.

"Romantic," she mumbled, the dew starting to dampen her pant bottoms.

"Isn't it?" Uriel said, emerging from the trees like a wraith.

Rose jumped, not having felt his presence, but Castiel just turned leisurely. "Uriel."

"If you wanted to bring your date…" The other angel gave Rose a scornful look. "You could have had the decency to warn me."

Castiel ignored his jeers. "Why?"

Uriel frowned. "I don't understand."

"Rose had a vision. The turn of a faucet, a few drops of water will under the work of angels. Strange." Castiel squared his shoulders and Rose got a sense of growing tension. "I know, Uriel. I know that you are scheming to free Alastair."

For once in his existence, Uriel said nothing.

"Why?" Cas asked again. When Uriel continued his silence, Castiel persisted. "We've been friends for a long time, Uriel. Fought by each other's side, served together away from home…" His voice was soft, emotional as he remembered what must have been centuries of affection. "It seems like it lasted forever."

It was amazing to Rose. Sometimes, when she looked at her friend, she saw the being within; terrifyingly bright and powerful, wings erupting from the back of the vessel. Others, she saw an attractive man with ancient, brilliant, electric blue eyes. Still other times, like now, she saw that man, calm and sad, with a sort of soft light around him.

"We're brothers," Castiel continued. "Pay me that respect at least. Tell me the truth."

"The truth is," Uriel said at last, "the only thing that can kill and angel…" A bright, shining, oddly cone-shaped silver blade slid from his sleeve to his hand. "Is another angel."

Considering Rose had just watched him sic a particularly powerful and pissed off demon on her brother, the situation should not have been as shocking as it was.

"You?" Castiel looked like she felt, which, perversely, made her feel a little better.

"I'm afraid so."

"So, you really were planning on breaking the devil's trap and freeing Alastair?"

Uriel grinned. "Oh, I have moved past the planning stage."

"Dean…" Rose breathed. _Hurry, Sam._

Both angels ignored her. "Alastair should never have been taken alive," Uriel explained. "Very inconvenient, Castiel. He was supposed to kill Dean and Rose and get away. Then I thought, well, he can just kill Dean." He sent a glare at Rose that froze her blood. "I didn't count on your pet's little parlor tricks."

Castiel moved a little closer to his charge. Rose hated not retaliating, but she knew that anything she said would just aggravate the situation. She would not last five minutes against Uriel. He could kill her like swatting an annoying little fly.

"You murdered our brothers." Castiel spat out the words like they were poison. In a way, Rose supposed they were. "You murdered our sister."

Uriel shrugged. "I suppose I did." He shook his head. "Unfortunately, one of the seals demanded the death of five angels. It hurt me to do it, but, I promise you, Castiel, I only killed the ones that refused to come to my side. Conversion is my real goal."

"Conversion?"

"How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense?"

"It is our Father's world," Castiel insisted, edging closer to Rose.

"Our Father? He ceased to be that the moment he created them." He looked at Rose as if her very existence made him sick. "Humanity." He made a move toward her, but Castiel stepped between them fully, warning rolling off of him in waves Rose thought she could feel. "His favorites. This whining, worthless, species."

"Are you trying to convert me?" Castiel hissed. Rose felt the brush of invisible wings against her arm, knew that he was gathering power.

"I want you to join me," Uriel said, his tone like someone presenting a grand gift. "With you, we can be powerful enough to-"

"To raise Lucifer," Castiel finished for him.

"To raise our brother," Uriel corrected. "Don't you remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful? He did not BOW to humanity." He reached for the other angel's arm. Castiel jerked away. "Now, if you want to believe in something, Castiel, believe in him."

"Lucifer is NOT God." Castiel could barely contain his anger at the very thought of releasing that traitor.

"When was the last time you heard from God?" Uriel asked. When Castiel did not answer, Uriel smiled. "I thought so. God isn't God anymore. He doesn't care what we do. I'm living proof of that."

"But this? Uriel, what are you going to do? Kill me and Rose?"

"The girl will have to go obviously. But not you, brother, not if you help me. Help me spread the word. We are so close to bringing on the apocalypse. There is only one more seal and the abomination Sam Winchester is about to break it." Uriel laughed with a kind of mad joy. "Then he will be free and we can fight beside him once more. Nothing will stand in our way. All you have to do is be unafraid."

Castiel glanced behind him and met Rose's eyes. "For the first time in a long time…I am."

Uriel smiled, showing his teeth in a kind of feral grin.

Castiel punched his brother with all of his angelic strength, throwing the other angel against a tree so hard that the oak split in half.

He stood up and the grin grew. Rose followed Castiel's gestures and ducked behind a boulder. Angels locked in combat while still contained in their vessels was frightening enough; she could not imagine heavenly battles. Castiel and Uriel threw each other around. They punched and kicked and did the whole thing without saying a word. They created deep craters in the ground from impact and knocked down trees, centuries old trees that had endured many a storm and wind toppled, as if they were blades of grass.

The noise was incredible.

Rose watched with horror as the inner beings struggled against each other, even while the human bodies started bleeding.

Castiel pinned Uriel against a tree, one hand at his throat.

Suddenly, Uriel pulled out a blade from the pocket of his torn suit jacket. It was not the kind of blade Rose had glimpse earlier, but Castiel still crumpled slightly when it was stabbed into his shoulder.

That was all the advantage Uriel needed to knock Castiel to the ground. He gripped him tightly by the collar.

Castiel looked up at his foe with no fear in his eyes, just blazing defiance. Blood was streaming from his shoulder, his nose, running down his face, but he was unafraid. "You can't win, Uriel. Even if you kill me. I still serve God."

"You are such an idiot!" Uriel delivered a punch that would have ripped the jaw of a lesser being clean off the skull. "There is no will!" Punch. "There is no wrath!" Punch. "No. God!" Punch.

He raised his fist again, but this time, he was the one to receive a blade to the shoulder. Rose could not just let Castiel die. She had used her hunter training and Uriel's distraction to sneak up behind him. She pulled a knife from her boot and stabbed him. "I'm here."

Uriel, thinking Castiel was all but dead, let him drop. "You. Miserable. Worthless…" He knocked Rose onto the ground with a tap. She met Castiel's eyes and winked. Uriel did not see that. He put his foot on her chest and started pressing down.

She could feel her ribs break. She wanted to scream, but could not, not with that unyielding pressure.

"You're pathetic," Uriel hissed. "Did you really think you could influence us? We should have left you to rot in Hell."

Castiel used Uriel's distraction to retrieve the angel -killing blade. Rage, Heavenly wrath in all its fearsome glory, shone in his eyes. He said nothing, just shoved the sword deep into Uriel's side.

Uriel screamed as a white light filled his eyes. It crackled like lightning, wracking his body in tremors and wrenching him from Castiel's grasp. He hit the ground, dead, his wing ashen and spread across the grass.

"Good-bye brother." Castiel looked down at where Rose lay on the ground, struggling to breathe through the blood filling her lungs. He knelt beside her. "Thank you." He touched her forehead and she was healed. "I am sorry you were hurt."

She smiled up at him, touching his cheek. "It was worth it."

Just then, a bright light shone down around them. If it was possible for a light to give off emotions, this light was very angry. A sound like the roar of an ocean in a storm rolled overhead. The trees started to shake and bend under the force of it.

Both of them jumped up.

"What is that?" Rose screamed, trying to be heard over the clamor.

"Angels! Those that sided with Uriel!"

"We've got to go!"

"No!" He put his hands on her shoulders. "You've got to help your brothers! Stop Sam!"

"What about you?"

"I'll hold them off," he promised her. "I'll hold them all off!"

Panic set in. "No! You can't! You'll die!"

He moved one hand to tenderly cup her cheek. "It's worth it."

Her eyes filling with tears, she fisted both hands in his trench coat and pulled him into a hard kiss. It was over in an instant. His mouth opened slightly in shock before he pulled her into a second, just as brutal, kiss. She could taste blood and fear and grief and power in that brief contact.

The roaring grew louder and the light grew brighter, until it was almost blinding to Rose. It shone around him like his true glory. He looked reckless and strong and beautiful. He gave her a soft smile, heartbreakingly out of place in the circumstances. "Go."

He kissed her forehead and she was outside the warehouse. She could see Sam fighting Alastair.

"Sammy!"

She ran toward the open door, only to be beat by Ruby, who smiled and slammed it shut with a triumphant laugh.


	20. Ugly Hell, Gape Not, Come Not Lucifer

AN: I am so sorry that this took so long. Life and writer's block and agh! I hope you enjoy it none the less. Thanks to my beta Lynn for being epic. However, this one is self-betad so all mistakes are mine. Oh, and, by the way, my friend Just Whelmed is writing a fabulous Rose Winchester verse story Welcome to the Hotel Apocalypse that I suggest you check out.

Disclaimer: I only own Rose and two teddy bears-John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

Sam wasted no time in leaving the hotel. He was not used to being Dean's knight-in-shining-armor, and he did not want to start out his career by being late. He picked up his cell phone to call Ruby and gave his reflection in the rearview mirror a wry smile at the irony. Maybe knight-in-shining-armor was a misnomer. What color horse did Death ride again? *

"Yeah, Sam." Ruby picked up on the third ring, her voice coming over the line smooth and sexual as always.

"I think I need it."

"Way to just skip the foreplay." He could practically hear her scowl. "Look, you kicked me out, remember? I'm not gonna just come back because you're sexually frustrated. That is what hookers are for."

"That's not what I'm talking about." The hand on the wheel tightened reflexively at the thought. "I'm getting ready to go up against Alastair. Last time, he threw me all over the place. I'm not…"

"Oh." Ruby was quiet for a moment. "I'll meet you somewhere. You can have your fill."

"No. No, just…I don't want it if, God, if there's any other way. If I don't have to have it." He glanced down at the veins in his own forearm and felt his stomach roll. "Just meet me at Alastair's location and be ready."

The good thing about talking to demons was that they generally knew locations without being told.

The drive was much shorter than most Sam had made his life, but it seemed much longer. He pressed the gas pedal until the Impala was groaning in protest.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Come on girl. If you love Dean, push a little harder." He felt a bit silly talking to a car, but, she was his brother's baby. Sure enough, the vehicle settled down and picked up just a bit of speed.

He was not sure if the car understood him or if somebody was listening upstairs. The way their luck was running…the car was developing thought.

In the warehouse, Alastair had been free for several minutes. Dean's face was a mask of blood that streamed freely from his broken nose and split lip. Alastair picked Dean up by the collar and slammed him up against a cinderblock wall once, twice, three times-until he heard ribs break.

"You've got a lot to learn, boy. So, I'll see you back at class bright and early Monday morning."

Dean groaned and, with the last little bit of energy he possessed, spat blood squarely in Alastair's eye.

Alastair grinned, then slammed the heel of his hand into Dean's already broken nose.

The doors flew open with an angry bang.

When Sam walked in, the demon dropped Dean like an unwanted rag doll, and it was all the elder Winchester could do to stay conscious.

"Hello, Sam," Alastair rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Glad you could make it." He made a show of looking around the room. "Where's your sister? I was looking forward to a little family reunion."

Sam refused to rise to the bait. He looked over his shoulder at Dean, who was still lying where he had been dropped, and set his jaw a little harder.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be." Alastair shrugged. "Well, I do have things to, so, you're right, we should get started. I'll go first." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, the same motion that had sent Sam spinning into a stack of cars at Bobby's, but this time the youngest Winchester man had not used up his energy killing four demons. So, Sam dug his heels into the concrete floor and resisted the shove.

Alastair stopped abruptly. "Well, this just got a lot more interesting."

Sam made the same gesture, concentrating so hard that his nose started bleeding, and the demon was shoved backwards several feet.

"That's pretty good, Sam," his foe conceded. "But I don't think you're strong enough to kill me."

Sam smiled and spoke for the first time. "Doesn't matter if I'm powerful enough to kill you." From a pocket, he pulled Ruby's demon-killing knife. "Are you strong enough to stop me?"

For the first time, Alastair looked nervous. He made the same gesture as before, but was clearly concentrating harder.

Sam just let the power sweep over him, rode it like a strong wave. It made him wobble just a little on his feet, but he kept walking toward Alastair, testing the knife, shifting it from hand to hand. He liked the way Alastair's eyes kept flickering down the blade. If he was feeling a little vindictive, well, no one could look at Dean and blame him.

Sam knew that he was not strong enough to kill the demon, but it was hard to be careful. The power was singing through his blood. He had gathered all his reserves of strength from deep within his core and he felt invincible.

Until the second demon showed up.

The second demon, who was wearing a guy about age 40, appeared in his peripheral vision. It was only Sam's quick reflexes that saved him from an iron bar to the skull.

He intercepted the arc of the weapon, catching it with his free hand. No normal human would have been able to do it, but Sam was calling on all of the powers given to him by the Yellow-Eyed Demon, including strength like Jake's.

He pulled the demon closer and made a fist, pulling out the black smoke until it melted through the floor.

His momentary distraction with the second demon gave Alastair enough time to get close to Sam and knock the knife out of his hand. He got his hands around Sam's throat and started to squeeze.

Sam looked over at his brother-struggling to sit up and desperate to help—and something came over Sam at the sight. Something cold and animalistic. He gave an incredible mental shove with his powers and knocked Alastair's hands away. He used the opportunity to spin around and bring his knee up between the demon's legs.

Even though it was not as crippling as it would be to a human, Alastair could still feel the pain of the nerves from the long-dead meatsuit he was wearing. He collapsed to his knees.

Sam grinned and sauntered over to where the knife had been thrown. He hauled Alastair up by the collar. "This is for my family, you son-of-a-bitch." He stabbed the blade deep into Alastair's throat.

Yellow, electric looking light sparked around the entry point, but not enough of it.

Alastair smirked. "Guess God loves me most." He used Sam's shock to his advantage and gave him a shove hard enough to send him into a support beam and crack both the beam and four ribs. The explosion of power it had taken to break Alastair's grip had exhausted Sam. He fell limply to the floor, almost as wiped as Dean.

"If you'll excuse me…" Alastair turned to where the oldest Winchester had finally managed to get to his feet. "I need to kill the first Seal." He smiled at Dean, who looked more worried about his brother than about his own approaching death. "Did I mention that would break the last Seal?"

Dean was so injured that he could barely fight back when Alastair tugged him by the shoulder, breaking his collarbone just to further dampen his efforts.

Alastair started shouting words in Latin that Dean could not understand through the blood in his ears. The chant was obviously powerful, because the wind started picking up inside a closed building. Lightning cracked, and distant thunder boomed.

Sam hauled himself to his knees and then felt a familiar hand run through his sweaty hair. "Ruby? When did you get here? He hissed, partly because of the ribs and partly to keep Alastair from hearing him.

"I snuck in when Alastair threw you into a wall." (She failed to mention that she had also slammed a 200 pound door during the start of the thunder to keep Rose outside). She pulled out a pocketknife and smiled in a way that reminded Sam of what a manipulative little bitch she really was. "You finally ready to do what you need to?"

"Give it to me."

She smiled a little broader and used the knife to slice open the skin on her forearm. Blood welled up thick and crimson, flowing sluggishly over the pale flesh.

Sam's stomach turned, but he looked at Dean in the demon's clutches and knew that, like Faustus, his soul would be sealed in blood. He put his lips to the cut and felt the coppery fluid on his tongue. He forced down the nausea and drank until Ruby pulled away.

"Go get 'em, Tiger" she practically cooed.

Sam stood and felt the power surging through his body like electricity crackling through his veins. He was aware dimly of his injuries, but they were of far less importance than the fire racing along his pulse. He felt giddy, centered, wild and in control all at once, aware of everything, but incredibly focused.

"Let him go," he ordered Alastair in a voice that sounded much deeper and commanding than his normal tones.

Alastair obeyed. Dean had to choke back a moan when the impact jarred his existing injuries.

Outside, Rose could feel the dark powers growing, knew that she had to get inside, but the only entrance was a locked, 200 pound steel door. When Sam drank the blood, she could feel what he had done, see the scene overlaying her vision like a mirage. Later, she did not know if it was a sudden surge in her Grace or if it was sheer adrenaline, but she shoved, and the doors burst open.

Sam raised his hand and pinned Alastair to the wall like a butterfly on a corkboard. He heard the doors open, sensed his sister before she spoke.

"Sam!"

"Kill Alastair!" Ruby yelled from the corner of the room. "Or he'll kill everyone you care about!"

"Go to Dean," Sam ordered Rose.

She wanted to argue, but she could see Dean's life force starting to fade away and the dark terrors taking hold of Sam that she was in no position to fight.

"I've got this." Sam said it more to himself than to Rose. He was right.

It was the simplest thing he had ever done. All he had to do was flex his powers and _pull_. It was as easy as snuffing out a candle. He could feel Alastair's life force in the palm of his hand. He clenched his fist and just like that, the reigning demon in Hell was dead.

Sam laughed triumphantly, feeling so high that coming down seemed impossible, knowing he was invincible. He could feel everything of which he was capable, like a war song in his blood. He could do anything, rule everything.

"Sammy," he heard his sister say quietly. He looked over to where his siblings were. They looked so different than usual. Dean; broken, hurting, bloody, vulnerable. Rose; holding Dean against her chest, being the guardian, her face imploring and beautiful. Too beautiful, glowing, too bright, not human, powerful. Both of them afraid, looking up at him with identical expressions of fear in identical sets of green eyes, their mother's eyes.

His mind was confused. Everything hurt, his soul warring with the dark power taking over him as surely as a possession.

"Come back," Rose said quietly, tightening her grip on Dean as what power she had poured into him to keep him alive. "Sammy, come back to us. Don't leave us."

It took everything he had, but he rebelled against the power, pushing it out of his system. He fell to his hands and knees, while the blood he drank erupted back from his mouth, not in the form of bile, but in the pure form it originated as, pure crimson blood.

White lights danced in front of his eyes. He squeezed them shut and, when he reopened them, the lights were even brighter.

"We did it," Ruby said, shocked. "We really did it. He's coming."

*Yes, I know that the Impala is black and that famine rides the black horse. Death has the pale horse.

AN2: The title comes from the play Doctor Faustus, when Faustus is waiting for his soul to be claimed.

AN3: So, I didn't like blood junky Sam. The sandbox may belong to Kripke, but the sandcastle belongs to me.


	21. For Whom the Bell Tolls

AN: This is the last chapter of Dead Man Walking, folks! But I already started the last story in the Rose Winchester Chronicles. The Battle of Evermore. If you guys still want to read my work badly enough to go and start on the last adventure, you will be the most epic group of people in history. Oh, and I have a poll on my profile related to Roseverse. Something amusing, my boyfriend referred to you all as the Cult of Rose Winchester. I don't think I'm anywhere near that popular, but it made me laugh. Hope it did you guys too. Thanks to Lynn for being the best beta ever.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Rose.

Sam wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "What? Who's coming?" He stood up and backed away, toward his siblings.

The blood was circling of its own volition, etching itself into runes and sigils, literally sinking down into the concrete floor, white light emanating from the letters.

"Lucifer." Ruby's eyes were huge and she threw herself on Sam in a hug. "We did it! He's free!"

Sam shoved her away roughly, but she did not seem to notice. "Oh, Sam, he is going to reward you. He's going to be so grateful."

"I don't understand." Something approaching terror was churning in Sam's gut. He looked down and saw it mirrored in the faces of the other two humans. "Lilith-?"

"Lilith." Ruby laughed. "Lilith doesn't exist! Those angels, Alastair and I, we made her up. To divert you. To keep you all concentrating on the wrong target."

"Why?" He knew his voice was cracking, could hear it echo like broken glass in his ears.

"The blood, Sam, I had to get you to drink the blood. It was the final seal, and it was you. It always had to be you." She laughed again, sounding a little insane. "And look! It worked!"

She watched the symbols forming faster, and the black came over her eyes, the demon in her so excited that it could no longer hide.

"Oh my God," Rose breathed, starting to tremble.

"Guess again." Ruby clapped her hands together, then gave Sam a reproachful look. "I'm sure you're a little angry right now. But, I mean, come on Sam. No one suspected me. You have to admit it, I-I'm awesome!"

"You bitch!" Sam spat. "You lying bitch!"

"Sam, all I did was give you the options. You chose the path. I know it's hard to see it now…but this is a miracle. So long in coming. Everything Azazel did. Just to get you here. You were the only one who could do it." She turned and spoke to Dean and Rose, her face with its coal black eyes unbearably smug. "You thought you were so wonderful. So special. To hell and back. Well…you failed!"

"Yeah, guess what?" Rose carefully propped Dean up against the wall then stood, pulling out the demon-killing knife from behind her back where she had stashed it. "I don't care."

Sam lunged forward and grabbed Ruby, pinning her in place while Rose stabbed her, three, four times. Ruby flickered from the inside out, then crumpled to the floor, dead.

"Let's go!" Rose said, turning back to Dean. "Help me!"

Sam and Rose slung one of Dean's arms around their shoulders and hefted his weight between them.

"I-I'm so sorry." Sam knew that he was begging for their forgiveness, and he could not have cared less. He felt that he deserved to grovel and be denied with a kick to the jaw.

Rose gave him a half smile and Dean weakly squeezed Sam's shoulder, when the runes turned into a solid, blinding beam of light.

"That's him." Dean felt short on breath and the words hurt to say, pain that had nothing to do with his raw throat. "That's Lucifer."

All three of the Winchester recognized that they were about to die. They would do it with no words passed between them, but their arms tight around each other.

Suddenly, they were standing in Bobby's living room. Their injuries were miraculously healed. Even the Impala was parked outside.

Bobby came in from the kitchen and dropped his plate, peas rolling everywhere, more frightened by their blood soaked clothes than by their sudden appearance in his house. "What the Hell happened to you?"

Rose ran into his arms like she never had to John, even as a child, and started crying into his plaid shirt.

Taken aback, Bobby did the first thing it occurred to him to do. He wrapped his arms around her and told her it would all be all right, that he would fix whatever it was. He looked up at Sam and Dean and took in their devastated expressions, asked in a gentler voice. "What happened?"

"Lucifer…" Dean said after a moment. "He's here."

It took a moment for the older Hunter to absorb that.

"Well, then, we'd better batten down the hatches."


End file.
